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fauzhee10069 · 1 year

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TGCF Thought: My Difficulty in shipping BEEFLEAF

!!Major spoiler for non-novel reader!! TL;DR available at the bottom of the post.

⚠️ Warning!! for beefleaf shippers who do not wish to read any negative thought about this ship, just ignore my post. Believe in your ability to scroll down!

Asking to remove the tags will automatically referred to this post.

Clicking (...) -> block saves you more time than typing a complain in my ask box.

Beefleaf is a highly popular fan-ship besides fengqing and when I’m not actively hate or against it (as I don’t like gatekeeping), there are several factors that make it difficult for me to accept them as a pairing and these factors are greatly influenced by the canon material itself.

Initially, Shi Qingxuan and He Xuan were besties, this notion made fans’ natural attraction to take their relationship further as a pairing. The canon source implies that them being besties is perceived more from Shi Qingxuan's point of view.

He Xuan's initial motivation for infiltrating Heavenly Court was to investigate the cause of his tragic fate. Later, after he found the source/cause, he was getting closer to Shi Qingxuan on his mission of revenge.

Over the course of their relationship as besties, it is a feint on He Xuan’s behalf. MXTX goes even further that she told us: He Xuan has great talent on acting (Yin Yu’s flashback and iirc interview).

Flashforward to Black Water arc, He Xuan’s main target for his revenge is Shi Wudu because he is the active player. The revelation greatly shock Shi Qingxuan who was greatly unaware of this. Even more regretfully, He Xuan never expected Shi Qingxuan's innocence. So while he was acting as his bestie, He Xuan had been harboring the same hatred for both brothers.

To the point that he wished Shi Qingxuan's innocence is a lie (“tell me this is not true!!”), this becomes a great dilemma for He Xuan. Until several times he refused to believe that Shi Qingxuan did not know anything about this switching fate.

So doesn't that mean He Xuan loves Shi Qingxuan?

Not necessarily, because you don’t have to be romantically in love for having moral standards not to condemn innocent people.

Let's put ourselves on He Xuan’s shoes; for decades (hundreds of years in their case) you actively pretended to be his best friend while thinking of getting revenge on him one day. You have harbored and nurtured such feelings for years, is it easy to just let them go?

Oh, you’re innocent? Then I forgive you (understandably, have a nice day)

If you think so, then you are underestimating He Xuan's feelings, pains and what he has been through all these years.

Now, moving on Shi Qingxuan; for someone you trust as bestfriend and suddenly he frankly reveals his secret that all this time he has held grudges and hates you. Even though deep down you know you're innocent, you will still feel hurt, confused, and blame yourself.

Thinking him as your trusted friend for all the time who suddenly says that "I actually hate you"/”we’re not friends” is a shocking moment for anyone (which also happened to Xie Lian & Mu Qing in the 33 gods & auspicious land flashback).

The conflict in the Black Water arc is very deep:

Shi Wudu doesn't want punishment to befall his brother because he knows that he is innocent.

Shi Qingxuan also felt guilty for He Xuan's suffering even though he just knows it at that time, because it was undeniable that his fortune had belonged to someone else.

He Xuan refuses to believe that Shi Qingxuan is innocent, as he has always harbored hatred for the two of them and used to watching Shi Qingxuan enjoying the life and fortune that rightfully belong to He Xuan all along.

So the conclusion of this conflict is; He Xuan killed Shi Wudu and abandoned Shi Qingxuan.

Yeah, beefleaf shippers, you can’t get He Xuan to just forgive Shi Qingxuan all together and let them be the new pair of Water-Wind masters or Earth-Wind masters.

He Xuan still stripped Shi Qingxuan’s divinity and abandoneddisgraced him as beggar as he wants Shi Qingxuan to feel the suffering that he went through before.

And Shi Qingxuan (who even though you repeatedly said he is innocent and don’t deserves it) willingly accepts his new fate.

Another MXTX’s interview even said that Shi Qingxuan doesn't want his damaged limbs to be restored (which of course really saddens me as I love Shi Qingxuan as a character too but), this further strengthens that Shi Qingxuan feels guilty and does not deserve his fortune and divinity and he accepts the loss of them which were not his in the first place.

We may disagree with this outcome, but this is what those two characters (beefleaf) decided.

Now these two canon breakdowns that:

He Xuan is straight since he had female fiancée at some point in the past.

Albeit his godhood allowed him to be genderfluid, Shi Qingxuan is more comfortable as a man than woman as we can see during Paradise Manor infiltration arc, he switched back into his male form despite still dressed up as a maid and he would be more powerful in female form because in this timeline he was still active as the wind master (not losing his godhood yet).

The problem of ‘beefleaf’ portrayal

As I said at the beginning that I don't like gatekeeping, I also don't necessarily dislike beefleaf as a pairing.

But so far I'm having a hard time liking this couple due to their portrayal of most of the fans which is mostly uhm… problematic.

Most fans like to belittle He Xuan’s revenge and put He Xuan feelings & sufferings aside.

They progress that during He Xuan's act of being Shi Qingxuan's best friend, He Xuan has fallen in love with Shi Qingxuan.

They made He Xuan abandon his revenge journey just like that.

Bearing in mind that He Xuan's revenge is not merely to relieve his anger, but also as an act of filial piety to his family who had also become victims of fate switching carried out by Shi Wudu.

That is the meaning of the scene where He Xuan brings Shi Wudu's head to his family's urns as an offering, in Black Water arc.

The Black Water arc generally still happens with Shi Wudu’s still paying for his sin, but as for Shi Qingxuan, beefleaf shippers are back on the route: “oh, you’re innocent? Then I forgive you” aka. understandably, have a nice day.

No, it doesn’t work like that.

What make He Xuan forgive Shi Qingxuan so easily just because he supposedly falls in love with him?

Shippers might put the revelation of Shi Qingxuan’s innocence early, before the Black Water arc was supposed to happen, so that He Xuan can forgive Shi Qingxuan much early.

Worse that he just falls in love without knowing Shi Qingxuan’s innocence first.

But this creates further problems when He Xuan has to punish Shi Wudu, Shi Qingxuan's beloved older brother.

“I love you, I forgive you, but I have to kill your brother.” You expect that Shi Qingxuan will just nod off?

Okay maybe not kill him but… natural reaction from Shi Qingxuan would be begging for forgiveness, or at least leniency on his brother.

Or worse, wishing that He Xuan to just abandon his revenge, which again, you belittle his pain.

You can't just simply choose: your lover or your dearest sibling? This will put Shi Qingxuan in a great dilemma. Which might be good for a drama, but very complicate to make it a happy ending.

Most stories like this actually end in tragedy.

Another take is by having Shi Qingxuan and Shi Wudu embroiled in family quarrel, which generally ends with Shi Wudu ready to take the punishment. However it generally also ends with He Xuan granting leniency.

“Well, he needs to pay for his sin, but I won’t kill him” like a husband comforting his distressed wife.

But for God’s sake, this is about He Xuan!! Not Shi Qingxuan!

He Xuan is the one who has the right to determine for himself how he will resolve his conflict with Shi Wudu, how much Shi Wudu will pay for his deed, he is the one who has suffered all this time, he is the main victim of this goddamn fate switching!!

And again, you belittle He Xuan’s suffering, of him losing his fortune, of him losing his divinity, of him losing his family!

Even worst that some fans babytrapping him and Shi Qingxuan!!

Yeah, they’re having baby, so He Xuan is not going to abandon Shi Qingxuan (and their unborn child) just like that (as in the canon).

“I have to take care of them, I can’t fail them/let them down, let's put aside this grudge for a moment for their sake…”

You belittle the tragedy of Black Water arc MXTX carefully made.

TL;DR beefleaf portrayals are mostly hardly believable, that’s what makes me hard to be convinced with their love story.

How can ‘beefleaf’ work better?

Let Black Water arc happens as in canon.

Therefore you value and acknowledge He Xuan’s past, his pain and his journey of revenge as it is.

And leave Shi Qingxuan with his current state post Black Water arc.

Therefore you respect his decision and acceptance.

Their romance does not happen in canon.

Doesn’t mean that their romance couldn't happen post-canon.

Their progress can be started from the post-ending. He Xuan has finished his revenge, has started to extinguish his hatred, has started to move on, to make peace with the past.

After his heart calmed down, make it a moment where his heart starts to ache for Shi Qingxuan, wondering what he is doing, thinking back whether they could start over.

As for Shi Qingxuan, it's very likely that he wants to avoid He Xuan at the moment. No matter how innocent he is, he had lived a life that was He Xuan's right, so his guilt won't just go away, he would be uncomfortable to face He Xuan.

This would be possible if it is He Xuan who opened his heart first. In the moment of their first meeting post Black Water arc, let Shi Qingxuan know that He Xuan has made peace with his past, that he is ready to move on, that he forgives Shi Qingxuan, offering Shi Qingxuan to let’s start over once again.

Let it happens slow, slow burn is beautiful.

Perhaps, Shi Qingxuan is ultimately willing to get his limbs restored.

And no babytrapping for God’s sake, let that happens after they truly reconcile.

Because that's the only thing I can see how beefleaf truly works.

So TL;DR you're free to ship beefleaf, but please make their progress more believable. Don't ditch/simplify the Black Water arc. Understand He Xuan's character & situation better. Don't underestimate his problem just for the sake of fluffiness. I'm looking forward for beefleaf content post-canon without excluding the after effect of Black Water arc and have them learn to cope it.

THE END

PS: If you still want Shi Wudu to somehow survive, do it.

But think about how to do it without putting aside He Xuan's pains and suffering as the main victim of his fate switching.

PPS: I’ll give you a free pass for ignoring Black Water arc if you write modern AU beefleaf.

#beefleaf #tgcf spoilers #tw negative #cw criticism #aku baper #he xuan #shi qingxuan #black water arc #tgcf meta #shi wudu #my thought #tian guan ci fu #heaven official's blessing #my rants #hate this post? just block me #tbh beefleaf has more complicated progress that will make it beautiful even more than hualian & fengqing #tgcf fandom kek bocil anjir

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fallinwitstyle · 3 years

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In Your Arms

characters/pairings: Loki / Mobius

rating: general

word count: 4821

summary: Loki and Mobius find one another again in the apolycptic New York and while on the run, share a moment.

Notes: I am such shipper trash and in no way do I think this will happen, ever, but I needed to write some fluff for these two. Hope you enjoy.

Read on A03

They had been running for who knows how long.

Loki didn't tire as fast as mortals and truly he could have kept running, his determination to escape this hellscape fierce but he was accompanied by a human.

A human man who, by all means, had done very well for himself in keeping up with Loki for as long as he could.

But eventually Mobius was starting to run on empty, his pace slowed and his breathing was far too heavy.

When Loki looked back at him, his cheeks were red from exertion, and sweat beaded on his forehead.

He had long since shed his TVA jacket and tie, undid a few buttons of his shirt and rolled up his sleeves..

"Loki," he gasped for air and Loki, despite where they were and the situation they were in, still got a little thrill that Mobius was alive and was able to say his name.

"Loki….hold..." Mobius breathed again and slowly came to a stop and leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees.

"Are you alright?" Loki stopped, briefly surveying their surroundings for any signs of danger but quickly turned his attention to his friend.

He was consistently amazed by how much he actually cared for this man. He could count on one hand how many people he genuinely cared for and all of them, save for Mobius, were gods.

He had only ever seen human beings as inferior creatures who needed to kneel before him but right from the start Mobius had been different. He never seemed afraid of Loki, he was never intimated, and in fact was almost amused, intrigued and as time drew on, seemed to have some kind of affection for him.

Mobius panted for a few seconds and Loki watched, his brow furrowed in concern.

"I just…" he gasped between breaths, and waved a hand. "I need a minute."

Loki frowned and glanced around him. It was getting darker and the other Lokis had warned him of the dangers that lurked in that land.

They had no protection other than Loki's magic, which could sufficiently protect them but, and he'd be loath to admit out loud, he still felt a little uneasy.

He took a few steps toward Mobius and put a hand on his shoulder and then once more looked around them.

"Perhaps we should stop here for the evening." Loki suggested, spotting a bit of shelter that would sufficiently keep them safe, at least for the night.

He glanced back at Mobius when the man weakly grabbed onto his forearm.

His face was pale, despite the pink in his cheeks and his eyes were slightly glazed over.

"You look like death, Mobius."

Mobius scoffed breathlessly, his lips twitching very slightly at the corners. "Oh thank you."

He wobbled on his feet and Loki tightened his hold on him.

Once Mobius caught his breath, he shook his head, looking up at Loki. "We should keep going."

Loki pressed his lips together and scrunched his nose. "If we do, it leaves me with two options: carrying your dead body or leaving you here. Frankly, neither are attractive options for me."

Mobius blinked up at him and then gave a slight roll of his eyes. "I am not going to die, Loki. I'm a little offended that you don't think I can handle myself."

"I believe you can handle yourself just fine under normal circumstances. However, your body is still recovered from being pruned and we've been on the move for hours. You're only a mortal, you don't have the stamina…"

"Oh spare me the superior god speech…" Mobius breathed out and Loki raised an eyebrow at him.

"It is the truth."

Mobius continued to glare at him in annoyance and then sighed.

"If it will make you feel better, then we'll stop."

Mobius came off like he was doing Loki a favor but Loki could see the relief in his face, and felt the way his body relaxed, even slumping forward a little.

"Oh yes, for my sake then." Loki remarked sarcastically and Mobius nodded his head weakly.

Loki swore the human could sometimes be as stubborn and hard headed as he was, which Loki admittedly admired and the smallest hint of an affectionate smile pulled at his lips, just out of sight of Mobius' gaze as he attempted to straighten himself up and turn.

Loki watched, his brow raised as Mobius began to stagger around aimlessly.

Finally, Loki cleared his throat. "Mobius?"

"Yeah?" Mobius paused and looked back at him and Loki pointed over his shoulder.

"Shelter's this way."

Mobius grumbled something under his breath and turned on his heel and shuffled back towards Loki.

The only truly safe space, that wasn't entirely covered by rubble and who knows what else, was a small room just barely big enough for the two of them.

Mobius immediately took to one wall and let out a groan, his eyes closing, a grimace covering his face as he lowered himself to the ground.

Loki looked around but then decided to take a seat beside him.

Mobius opened his eyes and blinked blearily to Loki.

"Any more cracks about human fragility?"

Loki smirked. "Oh I have many. None that I'll say now. For another time perhaps."

Mobius let out a little scoff of a laugh and then leaned forward with a small groan and a large sigh.

Loki's brow furrowed and he felt an odd pang deep within. Something he was learning was concern. That deep, visceral pain that cut into him. Of course the grief of watching Mobius be vaporized before his eyes thinking he was dead was much worse in comparison but he did care for his health as well.

Mobius swallowed hard, closed his eyes and tilted his head back to lean against the hard wall.

"I think perhaps you were right." Mobius muttered softly.

"Of course.” Loki remarked quickly. “About what?"

Mobius' lips twitched slightly but he didn't open his eyes. "I need to rest. I need to…" he trailed off.

"Rest." Loki surprised himself again with how gentle the command was. "I'll watch over us."

Mobius let out a small hum, but that was the only energy he had left to acknowledge.

Loki kept a watchful eye on him until it seemed he fell asleep.

Then he let out a small sigh, straightened out his legs and looked out of the small crack in the wall that was letting in what bit of light there was.

His thoughts drifted - to how they had ended up here, to what the existence of all the other variant Loki's meant, which of course then brought his thoughts to Sylvie.

It wasn't too long ago at all that he was trapped in another apocalypse with her as his companion.

It somehow seemed fitting he'd end up on some doomed distant moon with another variant of himself and yet somehow wind up on Earth, in New York of all places, with the human responsible for taking him to the TVA in the first place.

Sylvie kept up with him on Lementis. In fact she was very much his equal, perhaps even his superior in some ways.

She was astounding to him and he wouldn't have minded spending more time with her.

Having Mobius as a companion was entirely different and by all accounts he should have been annoyed that he had to slow down and take into account a human's shortcomings.

But he wasn't. No, he was entirely too grateful to have Mobius alive to be annoyed with his presence.

He was extremely irritated, angry even at the TVA and the situation they had put them in but Mobius was just as much of a victim.

His heart ached at the way Mobius talked about his life before the TVA and how he couldn't remember it.

Loki vowed to somehow, someway get Mobius to remember. Whether that was somehow finding Sylvie and having her access his memories or learning to do so himself.

He deserved to know the truth.

Loki suddenly startled when he felt a sudden, solid warmth pressed against his side.

He turned his head to find that Mobius had leaned in toward him, his head landing on Loki's shoulder, his arm pressing against his.

Loki stared at the top of his head and his lips parted in slight awe.

He recalled the brief conversation with Sylvie and how he couldn't let himself fall asleep in her presence because he didn't trust her.

He knew he had fallen asleep with Mobius before but he was truly stunned that Mobius trusted him enough to not only fall asleep in his presence but seek him out for comfort.

It was a new and thrilling emotion, to have someone so comfortable around him and to be so comfortable around someone else

He had been beginning to feel that way with Sylvie as well but Sylvie was not like Mobius.

Sylvie was like him and he admired her strength, her determination, her cunning, and wit. She seemed to be the very best parts of him.

Mobius was different- he was human, he was kind, he was good, almost irritatingly so but it was also admirable to Loki and he felt himself drawn to Mobius in a way he had never experienced before.

He hated the look of disappointment on Mobius' face when he chose to follow Sylvie through the time portal. He hated the anger and betrayal and hurt that Mobius tried to hide when he accused Loki of working with Sylvie...of being in love with Sylvie.

A ridiculous notion. Loki scoffed to himself and he was loath to admit how much Mobius words to him had stung. Of course he cared for Sylvie. If he knew what love was he might even admit to loving her but not in that way. In the same way he loved his mother. Another being on the same level as him who understood him in a way that no one else could. That was Sylvie.

Sylvie was connected to him, a part of him and he didn't want to let her go but he knew what he felt for her was anything but romantic or even lust, though she was incredibly beautiful, but that was to be expected, as she was, of course, a Loki.

No, what he felt for Sylvie was nothing like lust and nothing like the warm, soft feeling deep in his belly when he looked down at the man sleeping peacefully on top of him.

He took a shuddering breath and cleared away those thoughts before he allowed his mind to go there. Those thoughts were frightening and just a little too much to deal with.

He'd much rather just enjoy this rare moment of peace and comfort beside a man who seemed just as content to be with him.

He knew he promised Mobius he would keep watch but as the hours drew on, and he reveled in the warmth of the body beside him, he slowly found himself drifting.

He used just a little bit of magic to shield their little shelter and then closed his eyes, his head leaning to the side until his cheek was pressed lightly against Mobius' soft hair.

He inhaled slowly, taking in the scent of smoke and sweat and the faintest hint of the most bland shampoo in the universe.

He tensed only for a moment as Mobius shifted against him but he only moved closer, his hand lightly falling against Loki's thigh.

A small smile tugged at the corners of Loki's lips and he allowed himself to get lost in the moment, even if it was just going to be just this once. He clung onto it and sank into it, the feeling of Mobiua warm beneath him and slowly drifted off to sleep.

Mobius felt like he was hit by a train.

He had had particularly arduous missions that left him tired, chasing Variants through time but nothing like this.

His mouth and throat was so dry that it hurt to swallow.

His whole entire body ached down to his bones and he felt completely drained.

His head pounded as if there were a thousand hammers trying to knock out his skull.

He now regretted ever having anyone pruned, not only because of what the TVA was, how they had stolen his life, but because it was not an experience he would wish on anyone.

Yet despite all of this pain, he felt strangely comforted.

His eyes seemed glued shut so he dare not try to open them yet.

As his mind woke up he began to feel his surroundings, it was hot and humid, and there was a tinge of smoke in the air.

He could feel that he was lying against something solid, yet soft and warm and there was a comforting pressure against his head.

Loki. He suddenly realized and his chest tightened.

He finally managed to crack open his eyes and blinked past the initial blurry vision.

His eyes scanned the area, dimly lit by that smoky haze.

He vaguely remembered stopping there for the night, but he had been so far past the point of exhaustion that everything was a blur.

He cast his gaze downward and his heart leapt when he found his hand rested on Loki's thigh and what's more, Loki's hand lightly covered his own.

He realized then that while he had fallen asleep against Loki, Loki had also fallen asleep against him.

He was beginning to feel the ache in his neck and back from his position but he didn't want to move. He knew as soon as he did Loki would also wake up and he wanted to marvel in this moment for a little while.

Loki - the God of mischief. The variant he took control over, the narcissistic, infuriating being who tested his patience at every turn.

Loki had fallen asleep in front of him before, a few times in those early days when they were scouring through files, searching for the other Loki variant.

However, Loki had never fallen asleep beside him, holding him even. Protecting him, just as he said he would.

Loki's promise had suddenly come to him and his chest tightened again.

He'd never forget Loki's cry as he was pruned, never forget the look of awe and relief on his face when he saw him again, the smile that lit his face.

Whatever transgressions Loki had committed against him, the betrayal of leaving him to chase after the Variant - Sylvie - were all forgiven.

The last thing Loki had said to him before they were confronted by the TVA was the promise of friendship and this time, perhaps despite his best instincts, he believed him.

And so far, Loki hadn't done anything to lose his trust. He stuck by his side, made certain he was alright and watched over him, all the with the air of genuine concern.

Loki easily could have made his escape. Left him behind without a second thought but he didn't. He sat down beside him and went to sleep, holding onto his hand like he wanted to do the very opposite of run away - as if he was holding onto Mobius with all he had.

The thought warmed something inside of him - sparked the ever growing flame of fondness he was gaining for this Loki.

Someone good.

He knew he could have stayed there for hours, his head rested comfortably on Loki's chest.

That is where he was, he realized, when he became aware of the soft thumping of Loki's heart beneath his ear.

He couldn't remember the last time he had been this close to another being. Certainly never at the TVA and before that…

His stomach twisted at the harsh reminder that he knew nothing of his life before the TVA. His only memory was that of a jetski and it only came in his fascination with them. He didn't know if he had ever ridden one.

Finally the ache in his neck became too painful to stay where he was and he slowly lifted his head.

Just as he suspected, Loki's head shot up, his body tensing as he leapt to the defensive.

"It's only me." Mobius croaked and winced at his scratchy and sore throat.

Loki turned his gaze downward to him and instantly relaxed.

Mobius was still aware that their hands were still together on Loki's lap but he couldn't keep his eyes off of Loki's face.

His eyes were tired which put just a touch of humanity in him but he was most certainly a god and most certainly looked like one.

Mobius took in a breath and finally broke their gaze and slid his hand away into his own lap.

Loki's brow pressed together, his lips pursing as he looked down at his own lap. His fingers stretched where Mobius hand had been under his and then he clenched them in a slight fist.

He forced a tight, small smile to his lips and looked back at Mobius.

"You stayed." Mobius said quietly, looking back up at Loki and his breath caught again at the look in his eyes.

His gaze had softened, a rare look on Loki but one he had been seeing more and more often, particularly directed at him.

"Of course." Loki answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world, like he hadn't been known for consistently stabbing people, Mobius included, in the back.

There was a smirk on Loki's lips but he said with utter sincerity, "I'm not going to abandon you."

Mobius mouth went impossibly dryer and he couldn't speak, just stared at this marvelous being in wonder.

"Not when you cannot fend for yourself." Loki continued and Mobius released a breath.

"You still look utterly horrible."

Mobous clenched his jaw and attempted a swallow but his throat was like sandpaper and he only winced and Loki frowned.

His hand lifted and hovered in the air, almost looking like he was going to reach out to grab Mobius but then his hand fell back to his lap with a small sigh.

"I'm fine." Mobius insisted, his voice barely recognizable to his own ears and he knew that he wasn’t. His whole body felt like it could combust any moment if he moved.

Yet still he tried. He attempted to push himself up but his head spun and his legs shook and he fell back down.

Loki's hand did move that time, pressing a steady hand to his back which then slid around his middle to rest on his side.

Mobius closed his eyes tightly, holding his breath while the world spun around him and his stomach churned.

"I very much doubt that." Loki commented but he could hear the concern in his voice.

"What do you need?" Loki's voice was quiet at his ear and though he dare not open his eyes to look at his companion, Loki's presence was comforting.

"Water." He rasped and rested his head between his knees as waves of nausea rolled over him.

"Right." Loki muttered and then his hand was gone from Mobius. He sat in silence, concentrating on his breathing and trying not to throw up, vaguely wondering where Loki was going to find water.

He jumped, letting out a painful screech as suddenly ice cold water poured over him like the heavens had opened up in a personal rain cloud above him.

His head shot up and he ignored the splitting headache and glared in disbelief at Loki.

The god was standing beside him impishly, his hands hovering in the air where he had conjured the water.

"To drink, Loki." Mobius hissed at him as the water trickled down his back.

Loki raised his brow. "But do you not feel better?"

Mobius opened his mouth to yell at him but instead took a few seconds to take in what he was feeling. The cold water not only cooled his body but shocked his system back to somewhat functional. His head was still pounding but he no longer felt nauseous and could focus on something other than his pain.

He huffed, pressing his lips together and ran a hand over his face, pulling the water down from his hair and towards his chest.

"A little warning would have been nice." He grunted.

Loki merely shrugged but then waved his hands again and in them appeared a small container of water.

He extended it toward him and Mobius eyed it suspiciously.

Loki rolled his eyes at his hesitance. "I'm not going to poison you Mobius. If I wanted you dead there are a million other ways I'd do it."

Mobius lifted his eyebrows at that.

"I won't." Loki quickly added. "But I could."

"I don't believe you would intentionally poison me." Mobius said and the surprised look of what might almost be joy in Loki's eyes made his heart soar. "But in case you haven't noticed, we're in an apocalyptic wasteland. I don't think anything is safe to consume here."

Loki gave him a small smile and extended hisnhand further. "Trust me."

Mobius' got a taste of the water that dripped off his nose onto his bottom lip and was too parched to think about it further. There were worse ways to die he supposed.

He eagerly grabbed it from Loki and at first took a cautious sip but once the cool water hit his throat, he guzzled the rest of it down.

"Thank you."

He looked back up at Loki and Loki's hand was still outstretched, now palm up for him to take.

He placed his hand into Loki's and Loki helped him up. He got a brief flash of memory of their first day at the TVA and how Mobius had done the same for him. Their eyes met and Mobius could tell he was remembering the same moment.

"Like I said…" Loki started, his eyes never leaving his. "I don't feel like carrying around your dead body."

Mobius lifted his brow, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Is that the only reason?"

There was a flash of something in Loki's eyes that made his stomach flip. Then Loki blinked and his smirk returned to his lips.

"Should there be another reason?"

Mobius shook his head slightly, pulling his hand out of Loki's and moving it to his hair. He quickly rubbed the water out of it and got a little burst of amusement at the droplets of water that sprayed across Loki's face.

Loki shot him a faintly annoyed look, a few drops of water rolling down his cheeks.

Mobius chuckled lightly and taking a quick, deep breath, then moved to swiftly wipe then away with his knuckles.

Loki reared back in surprise at the sudden contact and Mobius swore he could have heard his breath catch and stutter. His eyes widened slightly and his eyes followed Mobius' hands as he then patted Loki's chest.

"Well, friends do typically care for each other's needs."

Loki visibly swallowed and his eyes drifted back to Mobius’ and his gaze softened once more and Mobius felt his heart ache just a little.

Loki always seemed so surprised by gentle, intimate, genuine touches and words and Mobius made it his goal to make sure he did those things more often around Loki. Especially if it earned him the look Loki was giving him now.

"Yes." Loki murmured slowly, as if he was just realizing this fact.

He realized then that his hands were still resting on Loki's chest. He gave Loki another small knowing smile and then began to pull away but Loki's hands quickly shot up and brought them back.

Mobius blinked at him, his eyes widening slightly and Loki stared back at him, just as wide-eyed.

"Mobius….I…" he choked over his words, his mouth hanging slightly open and Mobius smiled at him.

"I understand Loki. You don't have to say anything."

Loki's brow pressed together and he shook his head. "But I do because I've...I've never had anyone to ever say anything to and now that I do…" he trailed off again and something warm flourished inside Mobius chest as he stared at the god in anticipation.

Loki's face scrunched in slight frustration and he tilted his head up as he searched for the right words.

Feeling just a little bit daring, Mobius lifted one hand to Loki's cheek and pulled his attention back to him. Their eyes locked and Mobius gave him an encouraging nod.

Loki was silent for another few seconds, his eyes exploring his.

"Whatever you need to tell me, Loki, I'm listening."

Loki opened his mouth, taking a breath and then closed it again. His eyes quickly darted back and forth as he clearly argued with himself about something and then he quickly grabbed a hold of Mobius' shoulders.

Mobius brow shot up and he opened his mouth to question Loki when he was suddenly silenced by Loki's mouth upon his.

He froze in pure shock but then quickly felt himself melting into the kiss.

He wouldn't deny that it had crossed his mind once or twice what it would be like but all of his fantasies paled in comparison to the feel of the pressure of his lips, the burning of his hands against his shoulders, the heat that grew within.

It was over just as nearly as it had begun and Mobius was left wobbling on his already weakened legs. His mouth still hung open as he blinked up at Loki.

His eyes were alive with a spark of desire, and awe and surprise of his own actions. His intense eyes burned into him and he was breathless as he stared back.

"You are perhaps one of the most irritating and stubborn humans I've ever met." Loki said and mobius blinked a few times, trying to connect his actions with the words.

"Extremely complimentary Loki…" he breathed.

"I'm not finished." Loki cut him off and Mobius shut his mouth, staring at him silently.

"I have never encountered a man like you before. You never give up - even on someone like me."

Mobius pressed his lips together in a slight smile. "You're worth it." He said quietly and Loki's eyes widened and he took a breath.

"You are the only one to ever think so." His voice broke a little as he spoke and Mobius' thumb brushed across his cheek and Loki shuddered beneath the intimate gesture.

He took a steadying breath and grabbed Mobius’ hand in his.

"I've never cared about anyone, not really, but somehow you...you...you and all your ridiculous human quirks…." He shook his head and lifted his head. "I find myself caring more than I ever thought I could and it's...very unusual."

"It's good, Loki.” Mobius countered. “Embrace it. You don't have to hide your feelings with me. I promise, no matter what, you are safe with me."

Loki stared at him in awe, searching his eyes for any sign of deception but he'd find none and his eyes began to glisten.

"You know…" Loki spoke finally, his voice slightly raspy. "I rather think I like you."

Mobius laughed quietly and glanced down wrinkles and then back up at him. "I rather think I like you too. For everything you are, Loki."

Something flashed in Loki's eyes again and he leaned forward toward him when a large explosion suddenly shook the small, faulty shelter they were standing in.

They fell into one another, Mobius pressing himself against Loki's chest while one of Loki's arms surrounded his back and the other slid to the back of his head securing him to him.

They closed their eyes as rubble fell around them and Loki created a bubble of protection around them.

"I think we'd better keep moving." Loki said, once they opened their eyes and found themselves standing in a pile of rubble, now exposed to the smoky open air.

Mobius frowned as he looked around them, suddenly reminded of where they were and how much danger they were in.

A brand new cloud of smoke was billowing in the distance, rising from the explosion caused by who knows what.

"I think you're right."

Loki turned to him, a serious look in his eyes. "I will get us out of here, Moby. Whatever it takes."

Mobius' heart flipped at the nickname. Loki certainly wasn't the first one to use it but it held something special coming from him.

Mobius nodded hisbhead and lowered his hand, grasping Loki's in his tightly. "I'll be right by your side through it all."

Loki's eyes flashed, a mischievous glint that Mobius had seen countless times but it was accompanied by a certain fondness that was absent before and then he smirked, tugged at his hand and they were off again, prepared to face anything together.

#lokius #wowki #loki series #fanfiction #mine

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jason-pipers · 3 years

Text

the jason/piper breakup and jason’s subsequent death

it is a long and angry post so you have been warned

I’m really sick of seeing Jason Grace/Piper McLean slander in their own tag, and I’m really, really sick of seeing people justify their breakup/his death as good writing.

As I’ve been studying literature and text for the past four years at Uni- I can say with absolute confidence that The Burning Maze utilizing Jason and Piper was horrible. Like a bag of shit mixed together then smeared on paper and published kind of horrible. Actually, you don’t even really need a degree to be able to point out the very basic absurdity of them appearing in TBM. So even though I have a paper due on a completely unrelated topic and a lot of homework, I naturally decided this was a much better thing to write about:

Maybe in another world, Rick’s ghostwriters will be better at writing his books. The reason why the Jason/Piper breakup was extremely confusing and done very poorly in the sense of their character arcs was that there was no buildup to the breakup. In fact, I think these two got together off-screen and broke up off-screen. Yet, I’m sure Riordan sat at his desk thinking “now why don’t people just like Jason and Piper?? I give them so much!” Actually, you gave them nothing. It’s also considerably easy to disguise their breakup as logical when it isn’t. Now, people will argue that the basic foundation of the relationship was poorly made because of Hera’s meddling and that’s why they broke up. This is a lazy way to think about it because it’s obvious you don’t care about the characters so you should just say that and go. Hera’s meddling (putting false memories of Jason in Piper’s head and wiping Jason’s brain) really only gave Piper a vague notion of Jason (based on real attributes the Mist pulls) and also gave PERCY and Jason multiple relationships after the switcheroo. But Piper actually meets Jason and then has a subsequent breakdown that maybe he’s not her boyfriend. However, once she gets to know the real Jason (very accurate to the one she knew in her memories because Aphrodite said she could sense real possibilities hinting at their romance), she is still developing romantic feelings for him. It’s implied that the reason why Piper is falling so fast is because the memories she has of Jason are based on the real Jason. It’s easy to establish that Piper has real romantic feelings for Jason, not the made up Jason because the majority of TLH is them getting to know each other. If she felt like there was some confusion on her part about developing feelings for him because of Hera switching Percy and Jason- why did it not come up EVER? The months where Jason and Piper started dating. How about that long ass quest on the Argo? It could have been a valid plot line but it never came up. If it had come up near the end of the series or maybe even if it was a small subplot in the series, it would make the breakup logical, at least narratively. But no, we end Blood of Olympus with Jason and Piper coming full circle with the moment in the stars. Flash forward three years later to TBM where everything (and I mean EVERYTHING) about Piper and Jason are thrown into the trash. They’re broken up due to the false memories and overall I guess it’s implied Piper doesn’t have feelings for him anymore or something? Or the trauma of being in something like that prophecy was a lot for her to handle and she needed some time to figure things out? Yeah of course! Just like when she will go through another trauma (Jason dying for her) and start dating someone new right after. This would be so much easier to read and digest if these things are shown- in their own series and maybe not as a side thing to Apollo’s series. Reading it in TOA was completely out of left field. I know SO MANY PEOPLE were like that makes so much sense! Good for you Piper! But I was like girl, who are you? I feel like I have not spent any time with you and none of what you’re saying is connecting to anything you were like before. Which leads me to believe people just did not like Piper in HOO but just say that and go. HOO Piper is not TBM/TOA Piper. RR doesn’t know how to characterize his own goddamn characters. Furthermore, everything in canon up until TBM implies and directly states that Jason and Piper are endgame. It’s not to say they didn’t have problems that were resolved or that the way they got together was conventional. There was not even a smidge bit of reluctance to admit they were canon endgame- I think RR even had Cupid involved. There was no prediction or even hint of what would happen in TBM in HOO, which is a very big narrative problem. Jason, always isolated by loved ones and quite frankly always shouldering way more than a human can handle dies exactly the way he suffers. There is no growth or even a small lovely moment where we can see Jason.

This brings me to the most unnecessary death I’ve ever read in my life. I know RR’s ego hurt from the complaints about Jason/Piper/Frank/Hazel/Leo (basically a non-Percabeth character) being underdeveloped. I know his ego was fucked when he “killed” Leo but didn’t really kill Leo so everyone was like what the fuck. I know he wanted to prove he is a good writer but like any other bad writer, he decided to jump the shark. And I know he wanted Jason and Piper to be more likable but the fandom really wanted a Leo-esque character. The breakup really happened because he wanted to demonstrate to critics that he could live with couples not being endgame and knew Jasiper was relatively unpopular compared to Percabeth/Caleo/etc. He wasn’t thinking in terms of ‘does this fit what I’ve created’ but in terms of ‘people might be like oh shit this is violent and they’re finally gone!’. I don’t know what idiotic thought process made him reach the point of killing one of them but he obviously got there. See, there is no difference between Jason or Piper dying in TBM. It could’ve easily been Piper who was impaled by Caligula and reminded Apollo “what it’s like to be human”. They were made *that* insignificant in TBM. Pretty much fucking interchangeable. IN DEATH. It also could’ve been anybody else in the world. It could’ve been that cheerleader from The Battle of the Labyrinth. It could’ve been Piper’s dad. It could have been Sally Jackson. Not a single part of Jason’s death was really related to Jason or his growth. Jason was the main/lead from HOO and if he was destined to die (which he wasn’t because RR doesn’t think anything through anymore), he should have died in his own series. That would make his sacrifice more compelling and important, but dying in TOA is just a big fuck you to his character. I think the only equivalent I can think of is if HOO had solely been Jason’s series but RR pulled up Percy to simply kill him and then just kept writing. What the fuck does TOA have anything to do with Jason or Piper? Or even Leo? I usually love when characters make cameo appearances to remind us of the past we loved them in. Kind of like when Lynda Carter appeared as Asteria in WW1984. Conversely, involving them in the plot and then using them as a plot device for the main character- AKA USING YOUR MAIN CHARACTER AS A PLOT DEVICE FOR ANOTHER MAIN CHARACTER IN A SEPARATE SERIES- is not only dumb but it truly makes everything else you’ve written for the first main character devoid of any real significance. Jason was never a fully fleshed-out character, the way he deserved to be written, because RR couldn’t world build as well as he thought and that ‘every single character gets a POV’ didn’t do the legendary thing he thought it did. However, anything that mattered about Jason was pretty much killed in TBM because he was easily killed by a villain that was not even remotely interested in Jason or aware of his existence. What does FUCK does Caligula mean to Jason? Nothing. Did the final battle create a full circle for Jason other than the line “remember?” which is not really related to his amnesia- no. His character arc was about an identity crisis- being pushed and pulled in two directions. Jason barely means anything to Apollo so RR using Jason as a convenient kill to send home a message is also shitty for Apollo. Lead hero characters can die- they sometimes just have to. Marissa Cooper’s death in the OC narratively makes sense due to the nature of the character being a damsel in distress from the very beginning- a foil to her counterpart, Ryan Atwood. But in this case, RR knew he had to shock people to keep getting $$$. I never got the impression RR cared about Jason or Piper, especially since he was incredibly disrespectful and lazy when writing about Piper. (For that- I can link really detailed posts explaining his racism). The truth is Riordan cannot live without putting his characters in relationships- Frazel, Caleo, Tyson/Ella (?), Hedge/Mellie- but he wanted to prove that he could which is why Jasiper broke up.

Piper’s girlfriend in TON- I didn’t read TON for the reasons above and I don’t think I’ll ever read a Riordan book again: I did find out that Piper gets a GF in TON which at first I thought was incredibly neat but then later became angry when I learned it was only months after Jason’s death? I have always wanted Piper to explore her sexuality but RR has this case of never giving important things the development it deserves. He’s incredibly messy and inconsistent when he creates lgbtqia+ characters, usually only including them so he can get credit for including them. He’s never actually explored Piper’s sexuality fully in the series, but he threw her in yet another relationship we didn’t get to read about right after she was almost beaten to death and then witnessed the murder of her ex-boyfriend. If you think that is representation, please rethink that. We don’t get to hear her talk about anything at all, except maybe mentioning the girl’s name. A subtle hint. Just representation is not good representation and it is right that we demand better representation. Don’t settle for less. For fuck’s sake, Riverdale is only really good at queerbaiting but they get so much praise. (Do they? At this point I can’t tell). If we wanted to explore Piper’s sexuality, it could have been done while she was with Jason or even broken up with him in her own series- why didn’t RR explore the nature of being lgbtqia+ in an Indigenous family? He had the chance to demonstrate an awareness of intersectionality through Piper but he fucked up. He had so much to write about. So, people who are yelling happily about that Piper appearance in TON-???

This was long and frustrating to write. But I had feelings.

#jason grace #Piper McLean #percy jackson #pjo #jasiper #jasper #jiper #toa #trials of apollo #Heroes of Olympus

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tooncraze · 3 years

Text

Anastasia - PaTB AU

My turn to hop on this Pinky and The Brain Disney, only this time I’m using a princess that’s Disney on a technicality. Let me introduce to you: Pikastasia.

Okay let’s meet out characters shall we?

Anastasia - Pinky (Pinkastasia)

Dimitri - Brain

Vlad - Yakko

Sophie - Dot (For obvious reasons Yakko and Dots connections with each other will be based off of their sibling relationship)

Bartok - Wakko

Rasputin - Snowball (Snowputin)

The Dowager Empress Marie - Nora Rita Norita

Phlegmenkoff - Dr. Otto Scratchandsniff

So this is the list of main characters that will be mostly in the film, extras can be whomever. Now I’d also just like to clear up for those still confused about Vlad and Sophie, yes they are in a romantic relationship in the movie and that helps them get to the Dowager, so obviously that’s NOT an option, so their sibling relationship will help them in this case.

I’m not really changing the rest of their names cause frankly I don’t feel like it, so if you want to that’s fine.

Onto the story premise!

So in this version the main story stays kind of the same. Brain, with his bud Yakko are trying to take over Russia by finding someone to impersonate the long lost princess, Pinkastasia. He’s been trying to find a suitable actor for months now, once he finds the perfect person, they will learn the part, go to Paris, and convince the Dowager and get her reward money. With this they can earn her trust and with their money, take over Russia, and then with Russia’s resources, The World. It was the perfect plan.

Pinky leaves the orphanage (Scratchandsniff kicking him out) like in the film as well. He wanders around for a bit, sings his lovely song and all that Jazz.

When he makes in to Russia he realizes he doesn’t have all the correct resources to leave Russia and an old lady directs him to a man named The Brain, who might be able to help. She gives him directions to the old palace and he sets off.

When he makes it the the palace he can’t help but feel it’s familiar to him- but that’s crazy. Of course Pinky has another musical number here and it’s lovely.

The Brain and Yakko hear something from inside the palace and go to investigate. After a bit of cat and mouse, pun very much intended, they catch the intruder, another mouse. Taken aback by the uncanny resemblance of the princess Brain and Yakko are speechless for a moment. But only a moment.

Brain notices quickly that Pinky isn’t the sharpest toll in the shed, and knows he can use that to his advantage. He briefly mentions to Yakko his plan and the two of them agree. After a little persuasion Pinky agrees, after all, he had no memory of his past life- who’s to say he isn’t the princess?

The group make their way from the scene and we see Bartok- er Wakko for the first time talking to himself about the princess, with an odd green vile next to him. It becomes alive at the notion of Pinkastasia still being alive and flys him to the underworld/purgatory. We meet Snowball/Rasputin here. We learn of his curse and his pledge, I don’t exactly remember when he sings his song but that happens eventually.

Pinky, Brain, and Yakko begin their journey to Paris, teaching Pinky how to act and talk like a princess. While Brain and Yakko are giving Pinky information about Pinkastasia’s life, Pinky offers answers and details that they weren’t aware of.

They get on a train, and it goes the same as the film, wrong passports and then a lovely fire filled compartment. They jump for it and continue their journey.

After the lovely travel song they make it to their ship.

Once on Brain offers Pinky a dress he thought he might like, only because he’d been wearing the same scraps since they met of course. YES OF COURSE THEY DANCE AND IT’S BEAUTIFUL. Anyway, when getting ready for bed Pinky notices a lovely music box, wondering why Brain would own something like that he attempted to open it, only it was locked. He put it back and went to sleep.

Pinky has a night terror inflicted by Snowputin and Brain saves him from jumping overboard during the crazy storm.

They finally arrive in Paris where they are quickly greeted by Sophie/Dot. After seeing her brother the two embrace and are let inside. Pinky gives the rundown of everything he’d been told about Pinkastasia and Dot is impressed. When asked how he could’ve possibly escaped the palace during the fire Brain realized he hadn’t told Pinky anything about that and panics. Only to his surprise, Pinky gives as answer, and a correct one at that! Brain had never told anyone about “Opening a wall”. And yet... Then it struck him. He went outside to collect his thoughts.

Yakko comes out happily explaining they could find the Dowager at the ballet later that evening, only to see Brain wasn’t as excited as he ought to be. Brain tells Yakko that Pinky is truly Pinkastasia. He tells Yakko about the “opening wall” and how he was the boy who had done it. Yakko tells Brain he ought to tell Pinky but Brain refuses, this changes nothing.

Dot invites the group to a night out in Paris! They shop and go to expensive restaurants. Pinky purchases a new dress and Brain has a hard time processing his emotions, he figured they were irrelevant, but managed to compliment him anyway. Why?

The whole night Brain couldn’t stop thinking about how Pinky was really Pinkastasia. He needed to get him to the Dowager as soon as possible- for the money of course.

After the ballet Brain reassures Pinky that everything is going to be okay after noticing how he was on edge. Pinky and Brain make their way through the crowd and Dot loudly exclaims that he is not to enter, with a wink. The Dowager is not impressed however and still refuses to see anyone else about being the princess. This is when Pinky overhears how Brain was notorious for having people impersonate the princess, and how he was probably just in it for the money and it’s not the first time. Pinky’s obviously hurt that he was lied to. Brain tries to explain himself but Pinky won’t hear it and runs off.

Hurt and desperate Brain finds the Dowager’s automobile and pretends to be her driver. After speeding through the streets of Paris with the Dowager screeching at him to let her out, Brain stops in front of where they were staying. He shows the dowager the music box he has, knowing he had acquired it from the palace all those years ago. He said he was the boy that had opened the wall, and bagged her to talk to Pinky. The Dowager was surprised by this development and agreed.

Entering the room Pinky was supposedly in, she found him packing his bags. She offered to talk, but Pinky felt guilty and didn’t want to hurt her any further. However after noticing Pinky’s necklace, the Dowager pulled out the music box. Brain’s music box! The dowager asked to use the necklace and unlocked the music box that played a quiet little tune. The two sang their song and Pinky knew he was the long lost Princess. For real.

We are now in a large plush home with Pinky and the Dowager, they’re talking about the past and its lovely being able to be with each other again. There’s also a quick mention of a ball in celebration for Pinky’s return.

Pinky is getting dressed up for the event and Brain runs into him as he’s going to see the Dowager. The exchange quick conversation and Brain goes to see Nora. She offers him his money, only for him to refuse it. She’s surprised, he brought Pinky back to her and saved their lives, and yet he wants nothing? She sends him on his way and he again sees Pinky on his way out. Pinky wishes him well with his cash and Brain leaves with a heavy heart, not mentioning he refused the cash. It was easier to leave with Pinky believing he had.

During the ball Pinky feels out of wack. Why wasn’t he happy? This was probably the most important night of his life! He was with his family, there was food and music! Everything was perfect, and yet something wasn’t right. The Dowager wasn’t a fool, and explained that while they were together again, he could still make his own choices. She also mentioned Brain hadn’t taken the reward when Pinky tried to use it against him. Pinky realized Brain must’ve had a change of heart, but if so, why didn’t he say something?

Suddenly he was distracted by a little dog who had run into the palace only to run back out. He followed the dog through the large maze behind the palace. It was dark and the dog had disappeared. An evil laugh rang through the air as Pinky was officially introduced to Snowputin in all his undead glory. He introduced himself but Pinky had a lingering thought that he’d seen him before. Snowputin confirmed this and explained Pinkastasia was the only reason he was still here, and he had a job to finish.

Fearing for his life Pinky tried to run, but Snowputin used his powers to change the surrounding scenery, and Pinky realized he was on a stone bridge. Wakko who’d been doing his bidding throughout the entirety of the sketch opted out, claiming it would only end in tears, and went to find his sibs.

Snowputin began to destroy the bridge, and Pinky with it- until he heard someone call to him. Pinky recognized the voice instantly- Brain had come to save him! Oh good!

Snowputin smiled an wicked smile and shot a spark at a stone hoarse statue (Yes this can be Phar Fignewton if you’d like) Either way it came flying down to Brain, as it had been given wings, and picked him up, only to drop him from a height and come barreling down onto him, though he’d luckily rolled out of the way before he was crushed.

Snowputin had been distracted long enough for Pinky to climb up the collapsing bridge and tackle Snowputin. Pinky was unfortunately over powered and was sent off the side of the bridge- though he felt his had get caught be someone else. Brain had made his escape from the hoarse and grabbed Pinky. Snowputin was infuriated and hit Brain out of the way, he zapped some more of the bridge and sent it crumbling down on brain, knocking him unconscious, though Pinky had managed to grab onto Snowputin and hit his vile out of his hands. Enraged Snowputin yelled and Pinky to give it back, of course Pinky was furious as well at this point and began to crush the decorated glass.

Upon destroying the relic, Snowputin began to deteriorate as his soul was fused to it. He screamed and turned to dust. Pinky didn’t have time to process that of course, Brain was hurt. He ran over to him and shook him slightly, thankfully he awoke groggily. Pinky was overjoyed, as was Brain, though his whole body hurt. Brain tried to explain to Pinky how he was sorry about lying to him, but Pinky didn’t want to hear it, he was just glad he had come back and had a change of heart. The two hold on to each other a moment longer, Pinky’s large blue eyes had entranced Brain, his feelings from earlier had come surging back at full force, he felt- well he didn’t know what he felt, but he didn’t want it to go away.

Pinky lowered his face to meet Brain’s, and the two didn’t separate for several moments. Brain didn’t want to be away from Piny again. And they weren’t, Pinky decided he wanted to make a life for himself, and after finding who he was, he wanted to find out what he could become. Him and Brain decided to go their own way together, and though Brain had a change of heart from this scheme doesn’t mean he completely gave up on his lifelong conquest to take over Russia, or the world. Only this time, Pinky would accompany him, someone had to keep him honest.

So there we have it! The premise of the movie told very poorly through a Tumblr post. I like to think if this were just another sketch Yakko would point out the kiss wasn’t scripted but no one dared bring it up.

I will also be working on concept sketches with all the characters in their respected outfits, I can’t wait to draw Pinky in all those dresses, especially those pajamas Anastasia wears near the end of the film.

#PaTB AU #Pinky and the Brain #animaniacs #PaTB anastasia AU #Pinkastasia #concept #warner siblings #i spent too much time on this

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for-i-am-dying-of-such-love · 4 years

Text

that time I watched Antony + Cleopatra

I don’t even know where to start with this one. Please don’t mistake my criticism of the episode with my hating it, because I actually think there’s a lot going on here with Xena (and Gabrielle too, but I am less focused on her arc) that’s quite nuanced and compelling. I love that Xena’s role in orchestrating Marc Antony’s downfall contributes to her moral and emotional conflict. What I abhor (and refuse to accept) is the suggestion that it’s born out of her falling in *love* with him, especially when there are far more consequential things in Xena’s life, past and present, fueling her angst in this moment. I have my own reading of what’s causing Xena’s uneasiness here, but more on that in a bit.

First: I think my greatest frustration is with the show itself. Like, THE FUCKING AUDACITY to foist a Boyfriend of the Week on us with just a handful of episodes left in season five. After everything, *everything*, that Xena & Gabrielle have suffered through (actual, literal HELL), and the continued devotion they show for one another, it’s just not believable that Xena would fall in love with someone else, let alone a ROMAN GENERAL. The emphasis here is important, but patience grasshopper, I’ll get to that.

Now, here’s where we start to get into the weeds with this notion of ‘Xena falling in love’ and there’s a lot to unpack around it, but before I do, let me just finish unspooling the threads of frustration I have with the show and it’s AUDACITY. Because it’s important to note that the show’s intention *was* to frame Xena’s attraction for Marc Antony as romantic - on top of whatever else she may have initially felt (indifference, intrigue, lust) - and not just sexual. And while I’ll concede that a story where Xena is forced to sacrifice her heart for the greater good by killing the man she loves is intriguing, it’s one we’ve already seen (Immortal Beloved). More than that, it’s a story that doesn’t fit with the Xena we know now, and the show, better than anyone, should have recognized this.

I know I’m being hard on the show runners here, so allow me this small tangent to give a little contextual understanding before furthering my arguments. As much fun as it is wrestling with the internal logic of this show (a surprisingly uphill battle all the time), I understand the unfortunate truth is that character motivations don’t always drive the story in the ways you would expect. Sometimes external factors complicate the stories XWP wants to tell and the ways it’s *allowed* to tell them. I get that.

I also get that Xena: Warrior Princess - both the show and the character - was expected to be sexy (hello, an easy win because Xena & Gabrielle). And that means, from time to time, it had to tease the audience with sex and seduction and romance (I guess fighting demons in Hell for the soul of your SOULMATE is not romantic enough, but I DIGRESS). What that often translated as on screen was a parade of Boyfriends of the Week for our two favourite Gal Pals, and by this point in the show, well, frankly it had been a while since Xena had had her a boyfriend (the Ares arc in season 5 doesn’t count). Simply put: a Marc Antony type was past due.

In this case, he wasn’t just past due, he served a dual purpose - fulfilling their Boyfriend of the Week quota, but also helping to re-establish Xena’s sexuality after she’d had her baby. I happen to think the latter take is overly simplistic and misguided (because, what, pregnant women are not also capable of being sexual creatures?), but it’s something Rob Tapert has commented on. So, ok, sure, fine whatever.

To be fair, I’m not sure if the show was deliberately signalling the return of Sexualized!Xena, or if it was simply a byproduct of the chemistry between the characters, and the inherent sensuality of the story’s setting. Regardless, the end result was certainly titillating. And I get it. I get why they want Boyfriends of the Week sometimes. Sex sells, and this episode was a blockbuster.

And before I return again to being hard on the show runners about dumb boyfriends, I just want to point out that my specific problem isn’t that Xena has been given a *boy*friend. Xena is bisexual, so men are always going to be an option when she’s considering a romantic or sexual partner. My issue is that she’s considering *any* romantic partner at all! By the gods, she’s essentially married to Gabrielle at this point.

Ay, but there’s the rub. Because the same expectation that dictated XWP should be sexy, also dictated that it should be heteronormative. The show can repeatedly double down on Xena’s & Gabrielle’s emotional and spiritual fidelity but it can never be seen explicitly to be sexual too (just a reminder, I haven’t seen S6 yet). That’s the unfortunate and uncomfortable reality of television in the late 90s and early 00s.

But this is where I take umbrage: XWP may’ve been limited (by studio notes) to giving us a chalk outline of what Xena’s & Gabrielle’s relationship really looked like, but they most definitely had the ability to control how they coloured the relationships Xena & Gabrielle had with their Boyfriends of the Week. And again, in ‘Antony and Cleopatra’ the show chose to frame it as a love story, a romance, when simply playing it off as Xena’s libido run amok would have satisfied the episode’s need for sex appeal, while also honouring the fact that her heart has long been spoken for (don’t worry: taking Xena’s heart out of the equation won’t lessen her moral or emotional conflict any - I’m getting there!).

Because here’s the thing: Xena getting caught up in the heady thrill of a seduction play, especially with a man as attractive and powerful as Marc Antony is totally believable. And really, Xena taken in by *lust* makes sense, especially at this point in her life. I mean, it’s been a while since she’s had to play this seductive cat-and-mouse game (Ares doesn’t count) and maybe she’s forgotten how easy it is to slip into this character, how much fun it can be. Maybe it’s even a little liberating - this return to form from when she was wild and free - because a lot has changed since she last had to do this; she’s changed and in ways she never anticipated. She’s settled down, even if she’s still travelling the known world. Made a commitment to Gabrielle to share a life together, had a baby, and now the three of them are carving out their own little domestic sphere. And all of this is happening while she’s still reconciling the person she was before with the person she is now. Maybe she’s a little itchy.

Because this… this tension, the cadence of a feint and parry charm offensive, it’s familiar. Comfortable in a way she didn’t know she missed until she felt it again. It would be easy to see her drunk with dark delight, to momentarily lose sight of her head. It would be believable. What’s not believable is that she - a pragmatist - would ever lose sight of her heart. Because the stakes of the game are so high, for Egypt but also for her. (And for you in the back who’s clearly read ahead on the syllabus and is about to point out Xena’s checkered romantic history and her self-proclaimed soft spot for Bad Boys Who Love Like Fools - don’t worry, we’ll get there too.)

What I’m taking a generous amount of time to say is this: if they simply wanted to give us a lush and sexy episode, they could have delivered on the sexiness without attaching it to a love story! We are long past believing Xena only kisses people she’s in love with, or that she’s in love with all the people she kisses. There’s no need to pretend her sexual agency is only relevant or operational within the confines of a romantic plot line. But more than that, throwing an unbelievable romance into the mix really only serves to threaten the integrity of Xena’s motivations, because it risks reducing the entirety of her turmoil to: Xena loses another boyfriend, how le sad. And that is absolutely not the point.

Because the point is this: Rome fucking corrupts and perverts everything it touches. And Xena’s motivations are built from her (and now Gabrielle’s) tortured history with the empire and the men who run it. And if you’ll permit me, like 4,000 words, we can get into it and, hopefully, you’ll agree that shit is heavy enough on Xena’s mind without a ‘star-crossed lovers’ storyline. Remember, it was only a year ago that they both were nailed up by Romans and left to die under a cold, grey sky at the foot of Mount Amaro. That cross alone, and the long shadow it casts, is more than capable of supporting the dramatic weight of this episode, never mind the crosses that came before it.

So, I can’t overstate the importance of Xena’s past connection with Caesar and Rome. It informed so much of who Xena was to become, as a cruel and bloodthirsty warlord, and then later, as a warrior fighting for good. Even now, after Caesar’s death, that connection is still informing her. It will never stop. And, Rome will never be absolved of its sins against Xena & Gabrielle. There’s simply too much trauma in that shared past. Trauma that‘s telegraphed onto every interaction Xena has with Rome and its strongmen going forward.

And it’s exactly the reason Xena would never fall in love with Marc Antony. She might well lust after his body, but she will never pine for his devotion. Because, even in that moment under the stars when he is just a man with his chest cracked open, offering up to her his heart, beating strong and hungry in want of her affection, she can’t help but see the hardened, black veins where the love of Rome - like a creeping scourge - has left its vile mark. Of course she recognizes it, her own heart bore the same disease. A gift from Caesar. The pretty boy with his pretty words and his pretty promises, who so subtly disarmed Xena and then skillfully stripped away her defences until she had bared her heart to him. Who didn’t hesitate to flay it with a knife of her own making, it’s blade poisoned with his love for Rome.

He did not take her heart - sometimes she wished he had - but left it to rot in her chest, slow and angry. And it nearly destroyed her. Nearly drained her of every ounce of humanity she had left, as hatred and spite and cold brutality filled her up instead. He had weaponized Xena’s affection for him and used it against her and she was forever changed. In that singular moment she saw Caesar, and Rome - because Caesar was Rome and Rome was Caesar and they were one and the same - for what they truly were: insidious and unrepentant in their calculated villainy. And she hated - not just the man who betrayed her, but the monster who nursed him with poisoned milk, and all the other strongmen who nursed at the same teat. Because in that moment too, Xena learned that all the men who kneeled before Rome and lusted after her glory were the same.

But she didn’t let her hatred go unproductive. She had been careless and imprudent in her dealings with Caesar, and nearly paid for it with her life. Except she survived and then thrived, in her own insidious, unrepentant, calculated villainy. And she never forgot what Caesar had done to her, how he had done it. She turned it over and over and over again in her mind. Studied it from every angle. Studied *him*. Until she knew how he thought, how he moved, where he was weak and unsuspecting. Until she knew every single one of his plays, and how best to counter them. Where and when to lay siege. A secret weapon she cultivated, not just to destroy the man who destroyed her heart, but to lay waste to all the fools who followed in his footsteps. She wouldn’t be taken in by Rome again.

And, to be fair, the episode doesn’t try to run from this history. It just doesn’t linger in it any longer than is necessary to give a brief nod to Brutus and the crucifixion (which is a shame, because it informs so much of both Xena’s & Gabrielle’s psychology, but we’re getting there!!!). Even still, Gabrielle’s first words are loaded with its legacy, if not also quiet resignation: “Are we really going to do this?” Because: Fuck! Rome, again? They’re only willing to go another round with Rome because of Cleopatra, only willing to embrace the ghosts this will stir up because they feel they owe it to a friend.

So, of course they’re going to do this. Only, it’s no longer about vengeance, at least not the white fury that once burned hot in Xena’s veins. This is different. Xena’s ire still seethes, but she doesn’t plan to wield it like a mighty sword, rather she’ll channel it with the precision of a surgeon’s scalpel poised to excise a tumour, deliberate and clinical. The plotting is easy - Xena has a library of schemes stored away in the vast reserves of her grey matter - but made easier by the fact that she knows Caesar’s playbook so intimately. The man may be dead but he lives on in Rome and the hearts of all the faithful men who love her - proud and predictable. Puppets whose strings she knows she can deftly manoeuvre. The problem is that Xena’s too comfortable in her self-assuredness. Her plan and her assumptions of how Roman strongmen operate and her ability to manage everything is founded on her understanding of Caesar. And none of these men are the next Caesar. And it’s a problem, because this was supposed to be a quick and straightforward trip up the Nile to Memphis to do a little housekeeping on behalf of a friend and it’s been complicated by the fact that her pawns are not being cooperative.

This entire endeavour is not what she was expecting, Antony is not at all what she was expecting. He’s disarmingly handsome and charming, like many of Rome’s great strongmen, and their chemistry is electric - a bonus when you’re really trying to sell your part in a seduction play - but she realizes a little too late that the game she plays with him is not the one she had planned on. It’s actually much more dangerous.

And, I get that many fans believe Xena’s sexual attraction to Marc Antony is meant to telegraph an underlying romantic attraction as well. That as their physical encounters become more intimate and intense, so too must Xena’s feelings for him. And it’s easy to read it this way because Gabrielle’s own jealousy seems to reinforce the very idea, and Xena, herself, looks increasingly unsettled after each interaction. But I think it’s too simplistic an answer. Xena’s unease about Antony is growing because her plan has been frustrated by unforeseen hurdles, none of which include her falling in love with him. And Xena is frustrated in return.

We totally see this play out in Xena’s treatment of Gabrielle. She is curt and cool and dismissive (at least until their balcony talk), especially after Gabrielle puts a spectacular halt to Xena’s picnic with Marc Antony. But Xena’s distance here is not because she’s being defensive (at Gabrielle’s continued suggestions that she’s lost the plot), or because she’s angry for the interruption (ok, I’m sure there’s a very base part of Xena that *was* disappointed), or because she’s hurt (how could Gabrielle not have faith in her?). It may come across that way, but, really, Xena’s just acting out her frustrations.

Because this whole situation with Marc Antony, if a little intriguing at first, is irritating. And Xena’s frustrated. On many levels. The most obvious, and least surprising, being that Antony’s attentions have left her itchy and it’s distracting. And not because the chemistry between them has set off a chain reaction of romantic feelings for him - Xena is not spending her free time daydreaming about the man behind the General. It’s simply because there’s a kind of fire in her veins now that she wasn’t expecting to deal with this time out and it has the tendency to keep her on edge. And it’s not that she can’t handle it - spontaneous combustion is sometimes an occupational hazard when she’s playing at desire - it’s just that this particular element was not part of her plan.

That’s the real frustration: Xena’s not used to her plans being stymied. Her opening move - rolling herself, naked and chained, out from a carpet - though, brazen, should have been the perfect lure, should have painted her Cleopatra as an easy, if not unwilling, target for Antony’s ambitions. Because all Roman strongmen are the same: pretty boys with pretty words and pretty promises and pretty predictable tastes for cunning and seduction that they weaponize for the glory of Rome; heartless but for their love of res publica.

And so, this exact play is one Xena is confident any ambitious Roman would pounce on - remember: she knows their playbook, was once herself on the near-losing end of such a gambit, back when she was still a little naive and the right words could soften her heart; before her legs and her psyche endured the full force of Rome’s wrath. Except Antony doesn’t take the bait, like she expects, and it catches Xena flat-footed, a position she rarely finds herself in and one she isn’t particularly fond of. And so now she finds herself having to regroup and change tactics on the fly, which is fine - she’s used to that too - it’s just that her forward momentum is frustrated by the fact that she can’t get a good read on Marc Antony, doesn’t quite know his angle. He’s an unknown and unpredictable variable in a plot that already has a lot of moving parts and it introduces just the tiniest element of doubt into the equation.

Which is why it doesn’t help that Gabrielle is dubious of Xena’s motivations surrounding Antony. Not that Xena blames her for her concerns. She knows they aren’t really meant to provoke - that they come from a place of genuine anxiety, born from Gabrielle’s intimate understanding of Xena’s unhappy past with both bad-boy types and the ravages of Rome. Knows that Gabrielle, whose heart has traced all the scars of that past and let her love be a salve, is steadfast in her belief in Xena, even when the wheels are falling off. But Gabrielle’s questions do provoke. They pique Xena’s frustrations. It leaves her feeling cagey - like her back is up - and she hates it because it means she’s dangerously close to being on the defensive.

And really, by the time Marc Antony invites her to meet him under the pyramids, Xena is running out of options. Her back isn’t just up, it feels dangerously close to being backed up against a wall. She’s only playing this game because she’s confident she’ll win - that’s why she led with such a shameless opening bid, presenting herself to Antony as she did - but with each round Antony’ coyishness has forced her to up the ante while she waits for him to play his hand. Once upon a time she might have enjoyed and encouraged this slow, deliberate back-and-forth - would have been willing to play it out until she was out of chips (and her clothes) - but she no longer has the patience. Not that she’s entirely immune now to the thrill of what they’re doing - Xena has always enjoyed the hunt and then playing with her food - it’s just that she needs him to reveal his hand before he can call her bluff because there aren’t anymore chips to spare and she has too much on the line to go all in.

But Xena’s emotional conflict isn’t just being driven by her frustrations with the way her plan is playing out - it’s priming the engine, to be sure - there are other feelings at work here too. And chief among them is a deep and growing unease with the roles she and Gabrielle have cast themselves in and the very real consequences that will come from their interference. It doesn’t sit well with Xena, the way they’re toying with the futures of Egypt and Rome - as if they are just prizes to be won and Brutus, Antony and Octavius are the game pieces that need to be maneuvered around the board until a winner appears. As if there aren’t millions of lives at stake. She hates it. Hates that she has been somehow cast above it all, to dabble, like some unworthy god, in the lives of so many, and yet also stuck in the thick of it, an unwitting pawn herself.

And the longer Xena’s game is in play, the murkier everything becomes. What seems like a straightforward plan on paper, is actually a mess of competing interests, each as cold and ruthless as the next. And right at the heart of it all: Xena (and Gabrielle too), judge, jury & executioner. Because despite her business-like approach when they arrived in Egypt, Xena’s ability to remain detached and objective is under pressure, especially as all the players in her game reveal themselves and their motivations resolve into finer focus.

And there’s something about Marc Antony. He’s truly unnerved Xena. Because he didn’t play by her rules, the rules she owed to Rome - and he, a Roman no less. Maybe there would have been a time in her past when this would have endeared him to her, but now it’s left her uneasy. He needles at her resolve, the confidence she has in her plan. There’s a part of her that starts to wonder if she’s mis-read him completely, and that’s the start of a slippery slope into thinking she has mis-read this entire situation. And she doesn’t have the time for back-sliding.

But the problem is this: no matter how she looks at it there’s no clear answer, only devastating consequences if she’s wrong. For herself, for the lives she’s playing with, and probably for most of the known world. Because Rome and her strongmen will stop at nothing to take it all. And that thought never leaves her. Rome is a constant drum beat in her mind: Rome Rome Rome. Xena knows what Rome is capable of, what these three men jockeying for her power are capable of, even if Xena doesn’t know *them*. It echoes in her mind every time one of them is before her - even as Marc Antony’s kisses leave behind a fever in her blood - Rome Rome Rome.

And while her mind whirls constantly, turning over strategy and tactics, she’s tried to keep her heart mostly out of this affair. Left it unburdened by the machinations of statecraft and violent political intrigue. Except for a dull ache - when she thinks about Eve downriver in Alexandria, or when her eye catches Gabrielle in an unguarded moment - Xena could almost believe the desert sun had turned her heart to dust. Almost. Except that ache is there and, like her frustration and unease, it’s been growing more persistent.

Because Xena has more than herself to consider now. Sure, she’s spent the last five years dedicated to preserving the greater good - whether fighting for her closest friends or the nameless, faceless masses - but it’s different now, she’s different, and not just because she has a daughter who needs her to come home. She has Gabrielle too. They have a little family. And even though Xena has loved Gabrielle for years, she feels fiercely protective of Gabrielle’s heart and love now, in a way she’s never felt before, with anyone. But then, maybe it’s not surprising: they did battle demons in hell for each other’s soul. That sort of thing changes everything.

And Xena can see how this is affecting Gabrielle, even if she doesn’t say it out loud. Remembers the pierce of iron through the flesh of Gabrielle’s hands as surely as she remembers it through her own. Rome has robbed them both and Xena sees the weight of it in Gabrielle’s gaze. Sees, too, the way Gabrielle traps her bottom lip in her teeth as Xena smiles seductively at Antony. Watches the flush creep across Gabrielle’s pale skin when Antony’s kisses become more emboldened. Catches the dangerous flash in Gabrielle’s green eyes. The one that hasn’t gone away since they arrived in Egypt. Xena sees and it makes her heart lurch. To watch her beloved watch her take delight in the charms of another. And to know the sight of it is a white hot grip on Gabrielle’s heart. Xena feels the burning clench around hers too.

And this is the Xena we see when she meets Marc Antony under the pyramids. Frustrated and uneasy, heart aching. Tired. Tired of this game and her role in it. Tired of Rome, but mostly tired of all the horrible things that happen by her hand because of Rome. And then there is Marc Antony waiting for her. Disarmingly handsome and charming, unnerving in his refusal to play into her hands, a Roman above all: a pretty boy with pretty words and pretty promises. And like all Romans, she expects the promises to be lies. Except, there’s something in the way he’s played his hand, the way he’s held back all this time, that tells her there might be truth in his words when he tells her he wants her love.

She can sense his confession even before the words are out. Maybe on some level she always knew, had seen the inevitability of this moment even as she refused to believe in the possibility. But his words pierce the haze that has kept her from seeing her own folly. And it’s like lightning in a bottle. The way every frayed nerve snaps and jumps and arcs all at once - the rain of sparks illuminating everything that had left her mind and heart unsettled - in an instant of sudden, total understanding. It steals her breath and slices at her heart, this clear and unbearable realization. What she’s done and what she still has to do to bring this absurd game to a close.

See, she’s made a terrible miscalculation. Because in her mind Roman brutes are heartless. Capable of loving only Rome. And her seduction of Marc Antony was only ever meant to be a power play. How could it be anything more? She had weaponized lust and sex in the past to get the things she wanted, this was to be no different. Except that it was. And her hubris - her prideful overconfidence in her infallible, little plan, coupled with her resolute belief that all Roman men are Caesar at their core - has led her to overplay her hand. Not that she won’t still find a way to win. It’s just the cost will be much higher than she could have anticipated.

Because she has unwittingly weaponized Marc Antony’s affection for her and now she is going to have to deliberately use it against him. It is devastating. To see his chest bared to her so willingly, and to know that she must flay his heart with a knife of his own making. It shakes her resolve. It brings tears to her eyes.

But of course it brings tears to her eyes. She has done the unthinkable: she herself has become Caesar. The thing she hated most. The man who won her trust and her love and then betrayed her. Cold and hard and heartless. Brutal and ruthless and willingly so. In this moment she is Caesar. And soon she will become Rome, sacrificing another man, who might yet have been good, in the name of her unrequited love.

This moment under the pyramids is so important. Everything hangs on this declaration from Marc Antony, on Xena’s tears. I know people see it as confirmation of Xena’s feelings for him - and she has feelings to be sure - but they’re not romantic. Xena’s emotional reaction, and the genuine unease she wears thereafter do not hinge on her being in love with him. Xena’s humanity is enough to soften both her heart and her regard for Antony in this moment. Her compassion and regret are not dependent on attraction or attachment. And so the story doesn’t need to frame her tears for Marc Antony as a lover’s heartbreak, because her heart was always going to break for him, as it breaks for herself and Gabrielle and the ruin left in their wake.

And there will be ruin. Xena is certain of it. Although, for a moment, she might have held a glimmer of hope for Antony. This Roman who’s willing to give up his army for love. For love. Not that she wants what he’s offering. She just wants to believe he could be different. Not for her. For Rome. But then his sword is hilt deep in the belly of one of Brutus’ men and then slicing through the throat of another. And Xena knows - even as she and Gabrielle dance around the subject hours later, bathed in moonlight and disquiet - that any hope for him is misplaced. Knows exactly what he will do with Brutus’ army and Octavius if he prevails. Is keenly aware of what awaits if he learns of her deception and is allowed to live.

Because once upon a time she was the one who trusted and loved and was betrayed and lived. And thousands paid the price at the end of her sword for Caesar’s treachery. Xena can’t even imagine what Marc Antony, favoured son of Rome, might do. Can’t risk the chance. So he must pay the price at the end of her sword too. Xena wishes it weren’t so, tries to avoid the fight that will take his life - because now that she’s seen the humanity in her enemy she wants no further part in this madness she’s helped to orchestrate - only she doesn’t have a choice now. Alea iacta est - the die is cast, and her blade and her betrayal find Antony’s heart all the same. And when the end comes, there’s Xena, soaked in blood and rain and tears, in the middle of this fucking mess, the dead and wounded scattered about her. She can’t escape the truth of it then: she did this.

And it’s this! All of this - the many layers of trauma in need of reckoning and Xena’s tangled heart, twisted further by the part she is forced to play in Egypt and the goddamn fucking senselessness of it all - that carries the emotional weight of the episode. Who needs a Boyfriend of the Week when there’s already all this angst?

And, ok, I hear you say: Pattie, you’ve made some valid points about Xena’s state of mind, but why can’t Xena’s emotional and moral conflict be born from this fraught personal history AND from the fact that she *was* falling in love with Antony? Wouldn’t that make it an EVEN MORE dramatic and powerful story? Because she was specifically falling in love with a ROMAN GENERAL, the very epitome of the thing she has spent most of her adult life hating?

I would like to agree with you, dear skeptical reader, but the simple truth is that there isn’t room for both in *this* story. The reality is this: a 44-minute-long, action-focused show like XWP just doesn’t always have a lot of extra time to linger on the emotional beats. And this episode, in particular, already so busy with all the palace and political intrigue, has even less. So much of what we’re able to read of Xena’s psychological state - and *why* it’s so deeply fraught - doesn’t even come from this episode. It relies on past emotional beats to inform our understanding of her behaviour. (And, I don’t know, perhaps this is why a casual viewer might pass off Xena’s and Marc Antony’s interplay as romantic - because most of the horrible things that have happened to Xena by Roman hands are left unsaid, and surely, if we’d been reminded of them we would never accept that Xena would fall in love with a golden boy of the empire.)

As it is, there’s barely space for any kind of meditation on how either Xena or Gabrielle are feeling about the roles they are being forced to play and the seemingly callous and ruthless tactics they increasingly use to do so, let alone a tenuous romance. And the former is what this episode should be actively engaging with: the moral ambiguity that has been driving season five and will continue on through the end of the series.

Further complicating things with a love story, doesn’t make the episode more dramatic, it just takes up emotional bandwidth that could be better served elsewhere. Because, yes, Marc Antony is the epitome of the thing Xena has spent more than a decade hating! Xena’s history with Caesar and Rome (and everything they both stand for) is richly layered and devastating. It cannot be erased or ignored. To suggest that she is capable of falling in love with Antony (and to ask us to then believe it) without also deliberately exploring the tension inherent in that act is obtuse.

Those kinds of emotional beats need room to fucking breathe. And the episode doesn’t do this because there’s just too much happening. It tries - in broad, moody strokes - to capture the tenor of Xena’s emotional landscape, and it succeeds in wrapping us up in the same angst that drapes Xena, but the source is nebulous. Her haunted looks and tears - under the sphinx and when her sword finds Antony’s belly - can only telegraph so much, especially when we have been given very little reason to feel invested in her supposed affection towards him.

And here’s where we finally touch on Xena’s checkered romantic history - and her self-proclaimed soft spot for Bad Boys Who Love Like Fools (10 points to Ravenclaw for your patience) - because I’m sure you’re about to suggest that Marc Antony’s air of a Bad Boy is itself cause enough to garner Xena’s affection. Powerful, disarmingly handsome, and charming? Check, check, check. Capable with his ‘sword’? Bonus: super check. But just because her past is littered with dysfunctional relationships and Bad Boys - though I’m sure not all were bad, and some were definitely women - doesn’t mean she’s interested in repeating her mistakes. The Xena of old is vastly different from the one we know by season five, even if there are parts of her that are very much the same.

The principal driving force in her early adult life and formative romantic relationships was lust. It ruled over every part of her. Lust for: power and for violence and for blood and for riches and for infamy, and, of course, for sexual gratification. And so, she sought out partners - themselves driven by the same hunger - who could satisfy all of her desires, not just her (very) carnal appetite. She fell hard and fast and burned white hot until something, or someone, else came along and made her feel even more incandescent. In those early days, Xena wasn’t looking for *love*, she was looking for a good time.

Now, that’s not to say Xena’s past romantic entanglements were frivolous or lacking in genuine sentiment. At the very least, I suspect many were sustained by the warm affection that comes naturally from the intimacy of sharing your life with someone, whether they’re riding into battle alongside you or just warming your bed over a long winter. Nor is it meant to be dismissive of whatever fondness she felt for her lovers. Because: not all love looks the same. There are different kinds of love and different ways to love.

For Xena, though, whose heart had been so thoroughly and devastatingly mangled by Caesar’s betrayal, love was immaterial. At best, it was the unintended, if pleasurable, byproduct of a mutually beneficial arrangement. At worst it was a weakness that her enemies could exploit. Mostly, it was just a silly notion to scoff at. And the feeling Xena would come to associate with love - whether she acknowledged it as such, or not - was informed by both the dynamics of her relationships with Bad Boys and her own dark, irrepressible designs. It was selfish, and often cruel. Grounded in hot blooded impulses and savage desire, rather than growing out of an honest and patient connection.

And it became so thoroughly ingrained in her psyche. It was her overriding view of love. Even after she came to recognize how different love could be - and look and feel - once it was no longer centred in selfishness, when it was open and giving and kind, it was a struggle for Xena to undo her conditioning, to rewrite her love language. Because: first, she had to accept that she was worthy of this new kind of love, and then she had to actually accept it once it was offered.

But, old habits die hard, even for Xena, and I’m sure there were times - when she was just beginning to reframe how she viewed love and was learning how to reopen her heart - that she slipped back into her outmoded ways of thinking. Conflating lust with something else; allowing herself to be tempted by dalliances with partners who stoked her selfish desires, instead of tempering them. And maybe if Xena had crossed paths with Marc Antony then - back at the beginning of the series when her history with Rome was still messy but not nearly as tortuous as it is by the end of season five (you know after Britannia and its fallout which was the beginning of The Rift, and the deaths of Crassus and Ephiny and Pompy and the countless others who were the collateral damage surrounding those events, and, of course, Xena’s & Gabrielle’s own death on the cross) - I’d be willing to believe that she could love him.

Because, at one time Xena might have been interested in a man like Antony, might have been able to look past the Roman tunic and pursued him, taken in by his magnetism and allure. But by this point in the series Xena just isn’t interested, and not because her duplicity has made it impossible for her to be, but because by now her entire understanding of love - of being loved and giving love and nurturing it and making room for it to grow - has fundamentally changed. It’s been re-centred in selflessness, and everything that Marc Antony represents is antithetical to this new appreciation.

And I get that there’s an argument in here somewhere, that suggests Xena’s new approach to love might have softened her heart in such a way that she’s both able and willing to see the man behind the General, and be open to loving him too. But I would argue that the very things, the very people, whose love has transformed Xena’s heart are also the very things that would stop her from ever letting her heart go there. It’s not just that her point of reference on love has changed, it’s that she’s had years now of lived experience to break that cognitive dissonance between her attitude - knowing the kind of love she wants, the kind of love that’s *good* for her - and her behaviour - choosing that reaffirming, selfless love instead of the tempestuous, selfish one. She’s not blind to her past weaknesses, she knows exactly the sort of temptation Marc Antony offers - as surely as Gabrielle does the moment she lays eyes on him - but recognizing it is not akin to considering it. Because: Xena’s already found the love she needs and wants (and knows she’s earned and deserves).

Ok, but what of Xena’s admission on the balcony, when she cops to having a soft spot for Bad Boys Who Love Like Fools? I think it’s less about admitting (to herself as much as Gabrielle) that she’s developed romantic feelings for Marc Antony, as it is about Xena acknowledging a certain sort of fondness she feels for these ‘Bad Boys’. A fondness that’s born from a mutual understanding. Because: I think Xena sees herself in these men - at least an earlier version of herself - when she was ‘bad’ and foolhardy at love, and her heart tugs at the memory of it. Some curious mix of nostalgia and empathy, that softens her regard for them.

And she certainly sees herself in Marc Antony. The parallels between her story with Caesar and the story she’s now playing out with Antony are unavoidable, and if she’s cast herself as Caesar in this shadow play then Marc Antony is her younger self. Of course she would have a soft spot for him, she knows how this story ends. Knows, specifically, what it’s like to be willing to give your trust and your love only to be betrayed in return. And, of course, it’s made only more complicated with the knowledge that she’s the one who will ultimately be his ruin.

So, finally, exhausted and exasperated and, like 7,000 words into this, I hear you ask: what does it really matter? Xena doesn’t choose Marc Antony in the end, so what does it matter if it was lust or love or guilt or a fucking mid-life crisis that was driving her in this episode? Well, dear, patient reader: it matters because Gabrielle deserves better (THIS IS A BOLD STATEMENT, I KNOW, AND IT’S NOT AN INDICTMENT ON XENA’S CHARACTER EITHER, IT’S JUST THAT I FEEL VERY PROTECTIVE OF GABRIELLE’S HEART, OK! AND THE ONE THING THIS EPISODE DOES IS GIVE GABRIELLE THOSE LITTLE BEATS WHERE WE LINGER ON HER VISIBLE REACTIONS TO XENA’S TETE A TETE WITH ANTONY AND SHE’S CLEARLY JEALOUS AND HURT AND WORRIED AND SO, LET’S NOT LOSE SIGHT OF THE FACT THAT HER EMOTIONAL STAKES ARE ALSO INCREDIBLY HIGH IN THIS EPISODE, NOT JUST BECAUSE HER LIFE PARTNER IS SEDUCING SOME DUDE, BUT ALSO BECAUSE THE LEVELS OF BRUTALITY SHE’S INCREASINGLY HAVING TO EMPLOY ARE ALARMING. AND SO, SOMEONE IN THE WRITER’S ROOM WAS THINKING ABOUT THIS WHEN THEY WERE OUTLINING THE STORY - UNDERSTANDING THAT THERE’S AN UNDERCURRENT IN XENA’S & GABRIELLE’S RELATIONSHIP THAT WOULD MAKE SEEING XENA WITH ANTONY UNCOMFORTABLE, BUT THEN NOT ALSO RECOGNIZING THAT THAT SAME UNDERCURRENT WOULD MAKE IT EQUALLY UNCOMFORTABLE FOR XENA. AND IT’S JUST LIKE: TEAM, WHY DO YOU HAVE TO DO THAT TO GABRIELLE? HER HEART MUST HAVE BEEN IN A TERRIBLE STATE. AND WHY DID YOU HAVE TO MAKE XENA COMPLICIT IN THIS?)

But, seriously, I’ve spent all this time diving deep into this episode and the ways it comes up short and why, and while I’ve alluded to it, I’ve mostly avoided the elephant in the room.

We need to talk about Gabrielle.

Because: Gabrielle is at the heart of why a romance between Xena and Marc Antony feels contrived and unconvincing. At this point in the show, it’s clear Xena & Gabrielle are fully and completely committed to each other (and, yes, I know that doesn’t necessarily preclude either of them from also seeking romantic or sexual partners elsewhere... I just don’t think they’re the sharing types, but I DIGRESS) - I mean, we *just* had ‘Kindred Spirits’ where they were nesting and talking about domestic bliss and privately teasing each other about their sex life in the most blatant way possible and failing miserably at breaking up but winning at being cute and married and adoringly in love. And I think it’s important to acknowledge the weight of Xena’s decision to very clearly have Gabrielle as her *life* partner - because implicit in the act of choosing to commit yourself to another person is a vow of fidelity, a bond that would be near-holy to Xena, whose word means everything.

But more to the point: Xena loves Gabrielle and Gabrielle loves Xena, and their love has been the beating heart of this show from the beginning. Gabrielle’s care and tenderness has been transformative - everything that Xena has come to understand about love, everything that she does to honour and protect it, is because of Gabrielle and the heart she’s so selflessly given of. And it’s this love story - and how the show has framed its slow and beautiful unravelling - that becomes the bench mark, the gold standard, for how all other love stories in this universe should be viewed, for how Xena, herself, now views love.

So, I guess what I’ve been saying all along is this: Xena can’t possibly be falling in love with Marc Antony because she’s already in love. Deeply, profoundly, bound-for-all-eternity in love. And no one, in this life (or any other, let’s be real) will ever compare. Not pretty boys with pretty words and pretty promises. Not Bad Boys Who Love Like Fools. Not even a god himself. There is only Gabrielle.

#xena #xena warrior princess #xwp #otp: for i am dying of such love #xena and gabrielle #S05E18: Antony + Cleopatra #pattie has some thoughts #the fucking audacity #i still cannot even

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onlyhereforangst · 4 years

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WWR

Let’s say I waited to get this out because of the hiatus, you know- stretching it, it’s definitely not because I’ve had zero time (& recently been obsessed with gif-making instead).

To start, them chatting about their woes is cute team stuff that I’ve been missing with the drama of that little hit&run the other day. Eeeeeeven if they didn’t give Jimmy the hug I wanted them too- it was fitting for the recent moods & them in general, frankly. And we’ve gotten back to a little friendly banter as well which makes my heart full 🥰 (buuuut a new side of Nick banter...keep reading ➡️). So Ellie shocked & then pushing Nick to go see the Navy museum and him just casually agreeing instead of poking fun or adamantly saying no (like he would’ve a few seasons ago) AND while he joked about the car being cheaper than his rent (cue the histerics at his “too soon?” ya little shit) but when Ellie tells him to stop teasing McGee- he immediately listens to his wife & stops???.......you know what we call that @indestinatus?.....GROWTH.

Then of course we get the sweetest moment of Nick telling Ellie to read aloud this romantic letter to “escape” because you know- doctors orders- not at all someone wanted to dream romantic thoughts about his partner, no not at all 👀👀 BUT THEN. Nick coming all the way across the garage just to be next to Ellie when she read that letter like he’s physically drawn to her *swoon* & then his face, he’s so enthralled by the story with a soft smile on his face—imagining two people falling in love it’s SO CUTE. NICHOLAS TORRES BELIEVES IN LOVE- IM NOT SOBBING YOU ARE. And not only love, but love at first sight. Because “Art got game” as he gives a side eye smirk to Ellie knowing he’s projecting himself on Art and saying that *he’s* got game in his classic slightly macho manner. But then realizing that two people can love each other so deeply even so quickly but still not end up together??? The sadness that laces his voice is palpable- he fears it could happen to him & Ellie but never before this moment had he realized that it could be an option. Yes he’s seen Ziva & Tony go through a lot of hardship, but remember that opening scene? Yeah the one we got confirmation that they’re back together as a happy family? Yeah, that one. The one where love still wins. But this is different.

Love didn’t win.

Love didn’t win until almost 30 years later when Art felt it necessary to take his own life. Love didn’t end up together until death, but that was unfathomable to Nick until this very moment.

Two people in love may not end up together. Game- fucking- changer, Nick Torres.

Moving right along to the heart of the matter for Nick...the scene with Art and Carter breaks my heart - and is such a transcendent metaphor for Nick. He’s just an “every day quarter and a tarnished one at that” in Carter’s words & his mind. That’s exactly how he views himself, not deserving of someone as special and unique and exquisite as Ellie. Likely the reason he still hasn’t decided to stop being a wuss. And that letter put all those worries into words for Nick even if it wasn’t about himself, hence his exaggerated reaction to it. It’s his biggest struggle with voicing his feelings. Ellie deserves a million dollar coin- not a sad, old tarnished one.

But that just fuels him to solve this case more- for the notion of true love exists. Because it’s Nick’s handwriting and heart on their case board - i don’t care what @thekeyboardninja’s handwriting analysis says 🙉 Theeeeeen, Ducky calling them out and Nick’s classic whAAAAAt is gold along with Ellie’s logical brain deflecting but then both being like OMGHEGOTARING...too freaking cute 😩🥰🥰 Y’all can’t tell me you weren’t invested, I see right through you. Nick wants this (and Ellie too) to have a happy ending because it means that he can have a happy ending.

Flash forward to the next day & Ellie says “when Nick and I left last night” my mind: ok y’all carpooling or living together or married or what now 👀 but them getting defensive over the team’s accusations of Art being guilty is so cute, they’re so wary of McGee thinking bad of “them” (even if it’s not them them, it’s Art & Annie- can’t keep it straight guys? 🤔🤭) And Nick saying Art gave his life to the Navy and that he wouldn’t mess that up is so much growth from his outburst when he first started of having no family, no wife, no kids- for what. Bro has come a loooong way to say things like that now, maybe a certain team or blonde agent changed his mind 😯😯😯

Nick looking so grim when he realized Art and Annie would’ve gotten together if she hadn’t been killed - boy you thinking oh shit Ellie could die and I might not get to be with her??? I see you looking at her, I see it. I refer back to my earlier words:

Two people in love may not end up together. Game- fucking- changer, Nick Torres.

Finally, the last scene together in Jack’s office...Ok Nick moves over for Ellie on the couch (it’s off screen and probably just differences in scene shooting but WHATEVER) because he’s a gentleman and so aware of her presence and space even in a crowded room (⬅️ hint for one of my next gifsets). And then they’re so close on that couch their knees and shoulders are practically touching 😭 can y’all not keep me swooning??

Once again missing ending scene but it is what it is (aka fanfic thank you very much) 😬😘

Side notes: I love the Ellie & Kasie dynamic, #girlpowerallday. Kasie is a flipping GENIUS. And also McGee’s “good idea boss” after scolding Jimmy had me cackling weeks later.

#WWR #ncis #ellick #torres x bishop #17x16 #it took me forever don’t hate me

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assassinwolf189 · 3 years

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30 and B for the character asks!

Hey there! I’m always happy to see you in my ask box, I hope you’ve been well and that everything is good where you are. :) (Sorry this took so long for me to answer, it’s been a wee bit chaotic. :))

I hope this is the right ask meme.

Uncommon Questions for OCs and their Creators #30: Who do they most regret meeting? (I have so many OC children so I will be answering this for my top 4) Shailen: She regrets meeting David; her ex boyfriend from the beginning of the book, who is continuously abusive and condescending towards her, Sam and the American crew, who after she met them has brought nothing but pain to her and her family such as causing the death of her sister. However I think the person that she regrets meeting most is probably her childhood best friend that she remet in high school, who has been nothing but emotionally abusive and a weight on her shoulders.

K9: Not a person would regret meeting anyone but the closest to regret would probably be historical figure Laffayette whom she had a temporary romantic relationship that ended in ruin, and the birth of the french werewolf Tale of Labet becoming a twisted reality; and then her ex allies Portman, Andrew, Chris and Monti; all of which were close friends however the path they chose led them in different directions and a schism within their friendships, never to be trusted or healed again. Micheal: He would probably regret meeting Grace, a highschool student that asked him out to her prom, (and the first person he ever dated before coming out of the closet as Gay) he regrets meeting her because of the way she used him for the comforts he could provide, his influence and kindness, she then proceeded to cheat on him when he said no to providing her with more than he was comfortable with at the time.

George: George has probably got the longest list of people he regrets meeting, but the one on top of his list would probably be his Biological father that he meets at a point of which he is proud of who he is, but after their meeting feels that his mother lied to him about who his father was and wishes to return to the days in which he thought that his father was an idol and a hero, and not the monster that he truly is.

Questions for the creators B) What inspired you to create them? (This is a lovely question, thank you.) (This will include some of my other characters not mentioned above aswell, all from my main project, and not my fanfictions.)

Shailen was inspired by Scott and Stiles from Teenwolf , Alice and Thom from the Spook chronicles, Nikki from Dork Diaries, Clawdeen and Venus from monster high, Kate Becket from Castle and eventually Wonderwoman (What a mix am I right?)(Most of these were and still are nostalgic favourites of mine that I carry along with me from my childhood.) She was meant to be a representative and hug to all those in need, a beacon of light that I used a lot as a coping mechanism as a kid, and as a way of deciding what the best action would be in that situation; a bit of a self insert, but based on the person I could be and not the one that I am. It takes all sorts to be a hero right? She’s was also used as a crutch when I needed someone lighter in my life, and a reflection of whatever happens you can still be you, in trauma you can still be kind and in darkness there is light and so on. She is also a hug and representative of what its like to lose apart of yourself and grow accustom to it, and my way of learning that its ok to let go, and grow further.

K9; inspired by the lady from Underworld, Derek from Teenwolf; Disturbed, Rammestein, Breaking Benjamin other degrees of rock ,my sheer need as a child to feel badass, and on my thoughts as a kid, of but what if I don’t want to wear pink or be a princess, what if I want to be a werewolf on a motorcyle with my scars and long black hair flapping in the wind? (Yeah Also my sheer love for werewolves) However she’s evolved to be so much more, more a soldier, a person who has been wounded for so long that they no longer feel any pain. She also became a crutch to me, and a way to get anger off of my shoulders; a way to express my sheer love for writing tragic hero’s; she isn’t misunderstood or brooding she’s just damaged and doesn’t fit into any boxes, she just wants to sleep and be left alone. She’s probably the person I fall to the most when I’m dealing with negative emotions, and I’ve given her so much of my baggage. But she just continues, and moves regardless of circumstance, she remains her and does the best that she can; she over comes her struggles her own ways and learns healthier coping mechanisms. (She’s the one that I constantly used as a coping mechanism during my times of really bad depression; and I used her a lot before I managed to come clean and start attending therapy, that gave me the notion that if she can survive the shit I put her through and come out on top, I can survive too.) There is more to here than just this but to boil it down, she’s my comfort character, as are many of the rest of the people on this list. I also used her often as a way to cope when I received hate as a kid for being different, and yeah shes just a crutch; my buff queen that just carries me away to safety

Micheal; was inspired by my continuous love for video games, and intelligent and handsome and everything I was told a man should be (Obviously men like everyone else can and should be who ever they want to be but yeah.) The scientist of the bunch, and a more charismatic version of both Sheldon from the big Bang theory (Who Quite frankly I severely dislike now) and Velma from Scooby doo. Smart, Handsome and a gymnast. He’s also inspired by the dark academia aesthetic; and my dark twisted love of necromancy and dark magic, the showing that he might not be physically intimidating but his mind is as much of weapon as his sister is. (He’s basically the Guy exe song by Superfruit is based on, and the caricature of he’s so dark and handsome *Swoon*)

Over all they are all my comfort characters and are supposed to be traditional tropes turn upside down on their head; which I find quite enjoyable and amusing; I hope that one day when I do publish that people find as much comfort in these characters I have. Thanks for the asks, these have been wonderful, and I hope you have a fabulous day! :)

#Thanks for the ask #Writers ask #this was so thoughtful #and absolute nonsense #My OCs are like my kids so I wanted to share them with y'all cause I'm so proud of them #Have a fantastic day #tw mention of depression #tw mention of anxiety #tw trauma

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peepingtoad · 4 years

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Anonymous said: Assuming Jiraiya could have either survived his encounter with Pein or been brought back to life afterwards, how do you imagine his relationship with Tsunade and Orochimaru would have changed? Do you think Orochimaru's comment about them "never being on the same page" is correct? | headcanon asks | always accepting! |

I think first of all I’ve got to tackle the phrase ‘never being on the same page’.

Now, I can’t remember off the top of my head when Oro said this, but I don’t recall there ever being any explanation as to what was meant by it (or it probably would have been something that stuck with me more). Orochimaru is pretty cryptic at times, and their experiences in general are probably pretty unique, being the token gothy weirdo. Their ‘not on the same page’ could well hold a different meaning than if Jiraiya or Tsunade were to claim they ‘weren’t on the same page’.

Did Orochimaru mean that they were never on the same page as the other two because they always felt like an outcast regardless of their efforts? Did they mean they disagreed on things all the time or had opposing views? Did they mean they were never around at the right time to help each other out, or kept secrets from each other while doing their own things? Did they simply mean to say that their methods of handling difficulties and life in general were never the same?

It could mean one of those things, a few of them, all of them, or more than the above.

But say their comment was ‘correct’ in the most general sense... is that a bad thing? We see that Orochimaru later develops in a way that they come to appreciate the value of the sun-moon dynamic far more than they once had. It’s something they talk to Mistuki about a lot, and the subtext of urging him never to let go of his ‘sun’, while understated, speaks quite clearly to me of the fact that they would not have let go of their ‘sun’ quite so easily if given another chance. It’s subtle, but there’s certainly an acknowledgment that they may not have appreciated what they had until it was truly lost.

So I guess whether or not their comment is ‘correct’ doesn’t actually matter to me, given that it’s a very personal and subjective statement in the first place, and that it doesn’t necessarily link to how their relationships would change, in my eyes, given the chance post-war. Because it can mean good things and bad things either way. People are required to be different in order to meet a uniquely brilliant middle ground; the Sannin’s differences, along with the fact they still worked as a team long after they were required to, is pretty firm evidence of that--a bond forged of understanding each other and being harmonious despite their differences, that only really showed cracks when pushed to extremes by the first long term world war that ended up wiping out their whole generation.

At the end of the day, they were described as the type of friends who bickered and had blow-up arguments over disagreements, but we don’t actually get enough canon evidence to suggest it was over anything serious for the most part. And when it got serious, there were many external factors going on that provide a damn good reason for it, and that was where being on different pages had a negative impact. There doesn’t seem to have been much communication between them during that time, they started flying solo rather than sticking together--the fact that is truly when things began to fall apart really says a lot about how strong their friendship actually was, differences or not.

The real evidence that Jiraiya and Orochimaru, at least, may not have been doomed had he lived, is in this attitude they show later on--the conviction with which they impress the value of friendship, even if it is between two vastly different souls on different pages to each other, on their son.

Having said that, I do think it would be awkward at first, trying to repair the friendship. Jiraiya would possibly be a little tentative about jumping too whole-heartedly into the best friend dynamic they once had, even if he would probably have all the vibrating energy of a dog that really wants to grab that toy and go wild with it. Of course, navigating Orochimaru’s parole would come with its difficulties too--but perhaps that’s what would be needed to save their reconciliation from getting too intense, with more talking and fewer tempers flaring? Maybe it would be surprisingly chill anyway, since we see Orochimaru themself chilling out immensely in the post-war blank period? Of course, there’s always the consideration that they would be the one most capable of and inclined towards bringing him back at all. That’s where it gets into more ‘what if’ fanfic territory!

Honestly though, I’m a big fan of the notion of Jiraiya, having actually survived, becoming their parole officer and starting to mend the friendship that way, while sort of helping them learn to be a person again. Either that or Jiraiya being granted the most freedom to interact with them in general and perhaps ease them back into Konoha life to a degree. I think the biggest change in their relationship here would be actually being around for each other, properly and consistently, and perhaps showing a little more vulnerability to each other. Aside from the biggest change--that being that they aren’t outright enemies anymore, pff!

... But now, onto Tsunade!

Honestly, I think it does largely depend on her and what she’s comfortable with. She and Jiraiya have always comfortably inhabited the drinking buddies/best friends dynamic where they avoided speaking about anything too heavy. This definitely continued when they reunited in the main series after so long; it was incredible just how easily they fell back into it. Nothing was sorted out between them, but they defintiely seemed to be comforted by each other, which is nothing to sniff at in this world. And of course, feelings going unspoken was prevalent up until Jiraiya left for Ame, where even as he basically admits he does still love her it’s framed in a joking sort of way, with the whole ‘if I make it back’ gamble. Saying it and allowing himself some honesty in that moment without actually putting the onus on her to respond or share how she actually feels, because he knows her well enough to know that she has been avoiding love like the plague. It would have been shitty of him to rope her into the Hokage position then bother her with his dumb old feelings, right?

And I feel that’s how he would continue to be overall, if he survived or was brought back. He might have one serious moment where he does tell her that he still loves her and always will, but aside from that he’ll continue to be her close friend and nothing else, unless she happens to reveal that she reciprocates. There may be peace now, no imminent threat of death constantly looming over them and making the prospect of having nice things to lose terrifying, but Tsunade is still a seriously traumatised woman. Any changes would have to come as baby steps, even small changes like being less evasive of their feelings and regrets than they once were, much less moving into romantic territory.

I dunno, I of course think that the manner of their last conversation was set up as a ‘this has always been sort of an unspoken thing deep down’, and basically makes them a canon ship in my eyes (albeit an irregular one), but even with that being the case I think they’d be very much capable of remaining in that same sphere they always have done for a long time after the dust settles. Just because it’s damn scary to go through what they all have and then just go talking about it and uprooting all the feelings and thoughts of old.

As for Jiraiya himself... I think, by the time he fights Pein/Nagato, he does realise what a failing it was to try and go at everything alone. He didn’t involve Tsunade or Orochimaru in his dreams and goals, and frankly he paid for it in losing them both--even if there was so much more to them both leaving, he still feels like he could have stopped it by not being the first one to leave. So I think the biggest change overall would be in him making sure those two know how he appreciates them. How he needs them, to be honest. And I think that’s where it doesn’t really matter if they’re all on the same page, so long as they are actually bloody talking to each other and being the supports for each other that they once were. You don’t have to have the same stance on everything to at least work on it.

#{memoirs(headcanons)}#{bonds | character dev}#{long post}#sorry i had to be so vague with this haha #i felt like the orochimaru quote was trying to lead me to a conclusion to the first question #but in my eyes the questions weren't really relevant to each other anyway #different = good and healthy when there's communication #and that's the real issue with those three #they were strongest together #and when they weren't it all went to hell #also thanks to dokuhebi for discussing this with a work-enraged me about 12 or so hours ago :'D #anonymous #{fanmail}#{headcanons | all things sannin}

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lost-eternity · 4 years

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Match up requests: CLOSED

Match up for @ lunar-calliope

Okie dokie. I match you with...

Since you never specified your gender preference, I am just going to match you with anyone I think would click the best. Because I was kind of at a loss for anyone else. First I was thinking about matching you with the 11th Doctor as his personality type ENTP would mesh perfectly with your own. However, I feel like you two would work better as friends than lovers only because the Doctors are kind of... damaged. They all really need someone who is more of a hopeless romantic and boundlessly compassionate. The doctors would continuously push you away the moment they realize their feelings are slightly more than friendship out of fear. They would need someone to tirelessly pursue them and let's be real. Ain't nobody got time for that. And I feel like you are smart enough to recognize dependency and stay the hell away from it. Because if I am being brutally honest, all of the doctors would make a horrible relationship. They are far too traumatized and caught up in this game of endlessly trying to prove themselves to the universe, trying to justify that all of the lives they have saved somehow makes up for the lives they've lost. Right. Let's get started.

Here is the thing about Clara. She talks. A lot.

She talks faster than Matt Smith, which is an achievement in of itself and is the primary reason she was cast for the role.

So she is no stranger to the fast-talking rambling that you do when you get nervous.

As a matter of fact, she might even contribute to it

So now there are two people talking their lungs out and giving the Doctor a massive headache

She is also the type to make crude or inappropriate jokes in the heat of the moment. So you really don't have to worry about being offensive around her. She is reflective enough to recognize the hypocrisy of taking offence.

However, your introverted nature and her extroverted nature would mesh very well

She does all of the talking, allowing you some time to hang back and think or reflect

Which works out perfectly for you.

Clara also has a sharp tongue and steely wit. If you pulled a prank on her, she would definitely do something in retribution. And if it is allowed to escalate it most definitely would until the Doctor or someone puts a stop to the childishness.

She would be perfectly adept as exchanging quips and playful banter with you

Although she does have a reckless streak. She is up for any challenge, no matter how daunting. And this carelessness can cause you to sprout some grey hairs worrying over her. You and Doctor would be in agreement over constantly trying to keep Clara in line.

However, with something to ground herself and hold her back, I feel like Clara would be a lot more careful than she was in the show. She was free then with no one to care for or worry about. With you, she would rein herself in because she knows that you are worrying over her

She also feels some level of protection towards you.

Now let's address the elephant in the room. Clara is short. She is only 157 centimetres (that's 5"2 in American)

I am a huuuge sucker for height differences. Like the more timid tall one and the short little spitfire, trope makes me swoon.

And that is kinda what you two would be

And it is so cute

Clara would want to climb on you. Or sit on your shoulders or something but because she knows how you feel about your height, she will restrain herself. Because she cares ❤

Which is also why I believe she will be the one to help you get over this insecurity. She would remind you that you are beautiful every day, especially when you are feeling self-confidence

Bitch, your height makes you look like a badass!

Embrace it

She says that one day you are going to be confident enough to wear heels. And she means it

Clara is a huge advocate for nature. She appreciates its beauty. After all, it was nature that caused her parents to meet. How could she notice have at least a begrudging respect for it? She wouldn't have been born if it were not for the trees

So she loves forests

And being the energetic little fireball that she is, would demand to go hiking. And maybe a home-made picnic when you've reached your destination

But Clara is also boundlessly compassionate. As a companion of the Doctor, she harbours a deeply empathetic nature behind those quips and bluster.

Which I think perfectly dampens your more judgemental mindset. You would be the more cynical one, wary of those who you encounter. And Clara would be the one to have faith in their inherent goodness.

While I can see this giving rise to some conflicts, I think that it is a necessity for you. You need someone to act as your counterweight and achieve that balance.

Clara is your foil. You keep her grounded and logistical and in return, she will open your mind. She will help you work on dispelling preconceived notions and embrace the individuality of everyone

This is the main reason I chose Clara for you. Rory was also a possible match but I don't have the heart to take him from Amy lol.

You two probably knew each other before. Although not well

Maybe she was in one of your college classes. Or even an old student who attended the same High School

Regardless of what it was, you kinda thought that she was obnoxious

Near constantly blabbering about once thing or another

Kind of annoying really

Anyways. You were sitting at your favourite cafe reading a rather engaging book when you heard a loud bang originating from outside.

Curiously, you peered out the window and noticed a throng of people running away...

So naturally, you went to investigate.

Apparently, a phone booth had fallen from the sky and struck a car. Outside of it rolled an aged looking man and a rather familiar woman.

Smoke billowing from their poofed hair as it frizzed out around them in an untamed mane.

The woman whooped loudly, pumping her arms in the air, seemingly overjoyed

The man seemed completely distraught over the condition of the phone booth. The way he was acting, you would have thought that he had lost a baby

The woman turned to you, her eyes lighting up in recognition as she called your name

You were a little confused before you also recognized her. That maniacal glint in her eye, the Cheshire Grin. This was Clara. From school.

Great

Clara approached you, asking how you have been while the man stalked around his phone booth, buzzing some sort of glowing stick at it

You were kind of at a loss for words.

Like. This girl you haven't seen in literal years just fell out of the sky in a box and has the audacity to ask YOU how things are going

You couldn't get a word out before the man approached, saying that it may take a few days for him to fix the TARDIS before interrupting himself to ask "oh. Who's your friend?"

Clara introduces you before you have a chance to introduce yourself. The man introduced himself as "the Doctor"

The egotism is not lost on you. It's kinda self-righteous to add a "the" before your own name. And then not even use a real name. As though this man were the only good doctor in the world

You never do get his real name

First, Clara asks you what year it is. When you respond, both she and the Doctor appear confused than relieved. Then Clara casually asks if they can crash at your place for a few days

And you are dumbfounded like. "Uh... no?" Clara, who you haven't seen in years, fell out of the sky with some rando-stranger, for heaven's sake.

You basically tell them no unless they want to tell you to want is going on

The Doctor, seeing no other alternative, explains what the TARDIS is and who he is

And now you are CONVINCED that these two knuckleheads are high off their asses

Apparently not because before you know it, Clara is dragging you into the TARDIS before you can even fight back

You were gonna start screaming for help but what you found took your breath away

"It's bigger on the inside!"

The doctor laughs. "I love it when they say that."

So your brain is understandable fried

Like. What?

You have to go out and pace around the TARDIS a few times before passively accepting whatever lunacy you had just gotten yourself into

Meanwhile, both Clara and the Doctor watch you in amusement

Long story short, you agree to let them spend the night while the Doctor fixes his little machine

What else were you supposed to do?

Two TIME TRAVELLERS appeared at your doorstep needing your help. You can't just refuse that... right?

So as the Doctor tirelessly worked on his time machine, you and Clara spent the whole night talking

She had so many incredible and quite frankly unbelievable stories to tell

Your earlier notions about her were slowing beginning to assuage the more she spoke

You couldn't believe that she would be foolish enough to take off and go travelling the universe with a guy whose name she didn't even know.

You two actually hit it off quite nicely and exchanged numbers to keep on contact

The three days it took to finish the TARDIS came all too quickly for you

Although not quickly enough for the Doctor who apparently was damn near close to losing his mind due to staying stationary for so long

Like. It's been three days. Dude. Chill.

Not only was he rash and egotistical, he was also impatient and had the attention span of a gnat. You were kinda wondering how Clara put up with him

Despite your qualms about the Doctor, you really did not want them to leave

These two people... well, one person and one alien, were the most exciting thing that has ever happened to you in your dull life. Everything you ever were excited for paled in comparison to the tales that Clara had revealed to you. It really put a damper on well... everything

How could you be excited to go on a trip to Italy when you knew that there was an AMUSEMENT PARK on the dark side of the moon!!!!

How could you be content living, working, and dying knowing that there are entire solar systems of intelligent peoples with cultures, festivities, and ideologies completely different to your own that you would never get to see

You couldn't

It was simple as that

So you asked them if you could go on a trip with them

The Doctor adamantly refused, saying that it was best for you to forget you ever met them

You were persistent. Saying that you fed and housed them for three days. That is a massive favour. One trip would be the least he could do

Clara agreed with you and the two of you turned these adorable pleading puppy eyes on the Doctor

He finally acquiesced.

You were absolutely ecstatic

You three went to a faraway solar system and participated in some kind of elaborate festival which quickly turned awry

Clara had to give up her most prized possessions to please some kind of God

And the Doctor? The doctor would have died if it weren't for you and your quick wit

You are actually quite handy to have around

So the doctor, upon dropping you off, promised that he and Clara would occasionally swing by to take you with them

But warned you not to get too involved. Those that do often end up dead or worse. Usually worse.

Well. For a time traveller, the Doctor has piss poor time management skills and it is years before you ever see him and Clara again

Clara apologized profusely as she blamed the Doctor for screwing up the time dial thingy again

To make up for the lost time, you three embark on a lot of adventures in quick succession of one another

This is when you find yourself beginning to fall for Clara

You become a staple companion of the Doctor and Clara but unfortunately, fate can be quite cruel

As it turns out, Clara is set to die

She has to. It’s a fixed point in time

Of all the moments you thought you were going to lose her, this one scared you the most

The Doctor and you did everything possible to change the timeline, nearly breaking it in the process

But it did not matter. Clara was supposed to die.

And as her heartbeat its last beat, you found yourself deeply regretting all of the hours spent with the Doctor. Because if it were not for him, Clara would be allowed to live

Well. If it were not for him, you would have never met...

The Time Lords themselves had to step in and fix the situation. Because the Doctor had managed to extract Clara the moment she died. She technically was dead. Her heart no longer beat. But her mind still functioned. Rendering her practically immortal..

As a last-ditch effort to save her, the Doctor vowed to erase her memories.

Panicked, Clara reversed the polarities of the sonic glasses and ended up erasing the Doctor's memories of her.

She turned, ready to do the same to you but just couldn't manage

Instead, she broke down sobbing.

The two of your abandoned the Doctor, taking his TARDIS and going back in time to steal a previous edition of the TARDIS. Before the chameleon circuit broke down.

You dropped the Doctor off somewhere safe and then with your own personal TARDIS, travelled to Nevada

Clara admitted that she still had to die. And it would be wise to return to the Time Lords and allow herself to be returned into the time stream, meeting her final death

You were absolutely devastated

But Clara assured you that she had some wiggle room. The two of you could "take the long way around". She did not have to go immediately

At this realization, you smiled.

She was right. You were in no rush to return to Gallifrey. Why not enjoy some sights along the way?

And that was how you scored your own TARDIS and began to travel the universe, Clara by your side. You two had the craziest adventures and remained by each other's side until you withered from old age and died.

Clara, being technically immortal, hadn't aged a day. But she had a lifetime to come to terms with your future death and solemnly returned to Gallifrey.

She did not speak a word as the Time Lords showed her to her final resting spot. The last thing she uttered was "goodbye, y/n" before returning herself to the void

And finally meeting death

Wow. Why are my Doctor Who matchups always so depressing?

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impalementation · 5 years

Text

i think one of the reasons that spike is so compelling to me, and one of the reasons that i’m really glad he’s part of the show, is that he’s pretty much the only character that has a consistently poetic command of language. and by that i don’t mean that he speaks in a pretty or heightened way, exactly. he speaks frankly and irreverently as much as he speaks evocatively. i’m not talking about his insight either, given that i think we’re supposed to see his insight as unreliable or flawed or accurate-but-malicious about half of the time.

what i mean is that he phrases things interestingly, in a way that links unexpected concepts together. things like:

XANDER: Why blood? Why Dawn's blood? I mean, why couldn't it be like a, a lymph ritual?

SPIKE: 'Cause it's always got to be blood.

XANDER: We're not actually discussing dinner right now.

SPIKE: Blood is life, lackbrain. Why do you think we eat it? It's what keeps you going. Makes you warm. Makes you hard. Makes you other than dead. (quietly) Course it's her blood.

that repetition of “makes you…” is a poetic sort of conceit. it’s got rhythm. it links “warm” which can mean either physical warmth or emotional warmth, and “hard” which suggests sexuality and more animal parts of living, and “other than dead.” it makes you intuit this more abstract notion of what it means to be “alive” and even: why the show is a vampire show in the first place. (there’s a whole other post to write about buffy’s obsession with the concepts of “dead” and “alive” and the way it uses spike in particular to express and explore that obsession).

he does this sort of parallelism again in the gift: “i know you’ll never love me. i know that i’m a monster. but you treat me like a man, and that’s…” that’s some cool overlapping repetition, where the “i know” parallel intersects with the “man/monster” parallel.

or go back to lovers walk. where he talks about “beautiful dresses with beautiful girls in them.” the show loves using demons to play on expected words and idioms like that. angelus talking about finding a heart “in a quaint little shopgirl” or dru saying “i didn’t like him. he got stuck in my teeth.” but spike is one of the few characters where it would make sense to use a repetition of “beautiful” as part of a “demons live in moral and linguistic opposite land” joke.

(actually one of the reasons i always thought spike and dru made perfect sense as a character combination is because drusilla also phrases things poetically. she says things that don’t make sense but actually do, and what’s more poetic than that? “you taste like ashes” etc. of course spike would be in love with her.)

or take his death wish speech in fool for love. that speech could never come out of any other buffyverse character’s mouth, and i love that he gives the show an excuse to use language in that way. “death is your art” is some intense phrasing. and like in his other speeches, the way he links death as art, death as a dance, and death as “on your heels” makes you intuit something complicated. the repetition paints death as this simultaneously constructive and destructive thing. something both kind of sexy and kind of terrible. it’s not an authoritative outlook on death by any means, but it is a poetic one. and i love that it exists in the show because it can stand in contrast to the stark, awful version of death in “the body” or the loving, sacrificial version of death in “the gift.”

because spike talks this way, he has this ability to bring things out in characters and scenes that wouldn’t be there otherwise. the beneath you church scene would probably have been unbearably overwrought if it had featured anyone other than spike. but because it does feature him, it allows the show to use unusual words and dramatic symbolism. or in episodes like smashed, as the tension mounts between buffy and spike, buffy starts speaking with an interestingly spike-like sense of repetition:

SPIKE: Oh, poor little lost girl. She doesn't fit in anywhere. She's got no one to love.

BUFFY: Me? I'm lost? Look at you, you idiot! Poor Spikey. Can't be a human, can't be a vampire. Where the hell do you fit in?

She throws him across the room.

BUFFY: Your job is to kill the slayer. But all you can do is follow me around making moon eyes.

SPIKE: I'm in love with you.

BUFFY: You're in love with pain.

he also gives the show an ability to talk about the poetic instinct itself. that is, the way that putting things poetically can allow you to say unusually true stuff, but also can allow you to say false stuff in a dangerously seductive manner. it’s awfully pretty for spike to tell buffy “i don’t hurt you”...but we see not an episode later that that isn’t true. it makes sense to me that in season six, a season that is obsessed with the foolish and harmful parts of fantasy, spike starts out seeming gentle and attractive, but becomes an increasingly toxic figure. and basically finishes the season with all of his romantic images of himself destroyed.

(there’s something to probably say about his speech in touched and how it’s him speaking poetically in a way that is not about him, and not about finding a chink in someone’s armor, and this being a resolution of his season six role)

fiction is full of bad-boy foils. characters who can speak freely because they aren’t bound by kindness or propriety. but what i like about spike is the way that the show is basically aware that he is that kind of character and complicates him accordingly. not always elegantly or anything. but fool for love for example works hard to reframe him as a Poet and a Lover (and also importantly...a fraud), to the extent of ret-conning his past, and that colors how we see the way he speaks going forward. i never feel like spike is just “saying cool stuff.” instead, i feel like his character captures both the yearning to say things that sound good, to pursue to grand notions, and also the need to deflate that instinct. and that tension is compelling.

#btvs #gen #s5 #s6 #spike

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mentalmimosa · 5 years

Text

if, indeed

Prompt: Soulmates.

“What I don’t understand,” Crowley said, “is why they spend so much of their not-at-all unlimited time and energy looking for The One.”

Aziraphale folded down his newspaper and squinted at his friend. “The one what?”

“Pffft, you know.” Crowley waved his hands about his head, his eyes goggled stupidly. “The One.”

“Yes,” Aziraphale said patiently. Sometimes Crowley was like this, exasperatingly vague-- especially on a morning after a spectacular bender when the angel extended an invitation for brunch. There was no rule that said Crowley had to pop over just because Aziraphale asked, no matter how scrumptious Aziraphale knew his French toast was, how perfectly crisp and browned his bacon. Not that Crowley had ever actually admitted to enjoying either, but nor, the angel noted now with a spark of triumph, had his friend left a scrap on his plate.

Now the demon leaned over said plate, glaring. “Their soulmate, you git. That’s what they call them: The One.”

This was news to Aziraphale, the sort of news that one generally didn’t find in The Times: that is to say, incorrect.

“Do they now?” he said. “Huh. How very odd.”

“Yes. It’s in all their novels and things, their plays, you know. Art. I’d have thought you’d have noticed.”

“Huh,” said Aziraphale again. “From whom did they get that idea?”

Crowley’s eyebrow shot up. “From our side, I should think. The great minds that brought you Adam and Eve and all that. Set up a binary system right from the start, didn’t you? Of course they’re gonna follow that.”

“Well,” Aziraphale said nervously, for the thought had never occurred, “more than likely, it was for simplicity’s sake, you know. Or perhaps after creating two of such complex species, the Lord was a bit, er, tuckered out.”

This, Aziraphale well knew, wasn’t true. The original plans for the Garden of Eden--plans to which he’d been privy but over which he’d had no creative control, sadly--had always included two of what God called “humans” but Gabriel had lavishly dubbed “angels sans wings,” at least until the Lord had gotten wind of it and (so far as Aziraphale understood) told Gabriel to stop improvising and stick to the script.

And it had been part of the script, too, for each human not to be limited in the choice of fruitful (physical and/or metaphorical) partnerships; there was not, Aziraphale was certain, A single One. It had been brought up In the Beginning, of course, a suggestion from Michael and his ramrod straight lot: Script their stories. Write their tales. Set them loose only on the paths we have chosen for them, et cetera. It was silly, Aziraphale had thought then, though of course no one had asked his opinion; why go to all the trouble of creating something as wondrous as a world and then spoil it by dictating everything? They had already built a universe at the Lord’s direction, following every instruction to a T, and the whole point of the Earth, Aziraphale had believed, was to give God a go at a different sort of direction: free will and choice and all that.

In the sense, good sense had won and the humans were set to wander about and fight and mate and wander still further as they liked. It had taken a bit of getting used to; it had taken centuries for the Lord to stop losing Her temper and lashing out with natural disasters whenever the humans did something she didn’t like. But never in all those millennia had Aziraphale known the Supreme Being to give a toss about any human’s love life--aside from that young girl in Judea whose marriage to a carpenter had been so fortuitously timed with God’s sudden itch for offspring. No human had a singular solemate per se; how odd, the angel thought, neatly folding his newspaper and setting it aside with care, for them to focus on the notion of The One.

“No,” he said with a firm shake of his head. “That isn’t ours.”

“Are you sure?” Crowley was smirking now, the telltale curl of his lip that Aziraphale had long since learned meant ha! the angel doesn’t have all the facts.

“No,” Aziraphale said again. “I’m certain. We wouldn’t lie to them about something like that.”

Crowley sat back a little, his mouth still quirked. There was a peak of gleam in his eyes. “Oh, come on. Yes, you would.”

“May I remind you that the whole nonsense of marriage was, as you put it, one of yours? We’d cast our lot pretty clearly with celibacy.”

“Well, I can’t take credit for it directly,” Crowley said with a snort, “but I know the lad who whispered into the ear of the right elder during the early days of the Church. He’s the one who rejiggered Paul’s letters, that elder was. Heh!” Here here grinned at Aziraphale. “Difficult to be celibate when God’s book is telling you to have shack up and have kids, isn’t it?”

Aziraphale sighed. “I did warn them about the dangers of dictation, Crowley. Wrote many a strongly worded letter along those lines.”

“I’m sure you did.”

“I’d be surprised if any of them were opened, frankly.”

“Ach,” Crowley said. He patted Aziraphale’s arm. “That was their mistake, then, wasn’t it? Don’t be hard on yourself about it.”

“Still,” Aziraphale said, “regardless of whose fault it is, that still leaves us with the same problem.”

“What problem?”

“How do we dissuade all the people wandering about out there that love is the goal, hmm, the thing they should be striving for. Not this silly notion of The One. What if that one lives halfway around the world, after all?”

“True.”

“They’ve barely mastered seafaring, after all, in this part of the world, at least. What if you’re born in a bog in Ireland or something and your One lives at the tip of Cape Horn? What’s the likelihood of you finding them or them blundering up this way to find you?”

“Somewhere less than zero.”

Aziraphale frowned, his thoughts distressed and zooming about at a thousand miles an hour. “Or who’s to say if this One will walk the earth at the same time that you do? What if they’re only born after you die?”

“Az.”

“Or what if you get married to a bloke who seems nice and then a few later, alakazam! You run into The One in the street.”

Crowley’s hand on his forearm tightened. “Aziraphale.”

“What?”

“Calm down.”

“But--!”

“I was only pulling your leg,” Crowley said. His friend looked genuinely distressed. “Needling at you, you know. I wasn’t trying to get you upset.”

“I’m not upset, I’m”--here Aziraphale flailed--“distressed on someone else’s behalf.”

“You feel too much, angel. You always have. Sensitive as all get out when it comes to the humans, aren’t you? Have been since they day that we met.”

“Yes, well,” Aziraphale said with a bit of a sniff. “I like them.”

He had always done, ever since he’d first see the sketches of their original design: when it came to people, truly, these fragile creatures so dependent on their corporeal form, Aziraphale had been in love since they were merely an idea.

Crowley’s fingers slipped to his. “I shouldn’t have teased you,” the demon said kindly. “Not about them. I’m sorry, my friend.”

Aziraphale met his eyes, felt his own tear at the fondness he found there. “Apology accepted.”

Crowley’s mouth lifted and it seemed, for a moment at the breakfast table in 1815, that there was something very much more to be said. It hung in the air between them, the air stuffy with the smell of old books and powdered sugar and, if one sniffed very sternly, a hint of last night’s wine. Aziraphale’s soul sang with affection; not for the first time, his cheeks colored and something very deep in him trembled and he wondered, asked: should I give this voice?

But then there was a clatter of hooves on the cobblestones outside, a shout of a man in the street, and the moment--fragile as it was, like the softest spun sugar--gave way over their empty plates and gently, inexorably collapsed.

“Anyway,” Crowley said, sliding his hand free and looking vaguely embarrassed, “it was the humans who came up with it, this whole daft notion of The One.”

Aziraphale cleared his throat and reached for his coffee. “Really?”

“Yeah. They think it’s romantic or something, I guess, the idea of having a soulmate. Very silly if you ask me.”

“Oh yes,” the angel said, busying himself with the cream and the sugar and keeping his gaze from Crowley’s face, his mouth still full of all the mad things he’d quite nearly said. “Very silly indeed. Not to mention factually inaccurate. Not my definition of romantic at all.”

Crowley chuckled. The sound was a little pained. “For them, angel, I think silly and romantic go hand in hand.”

Later, when his friend had gone and he’d washed and set away the dishes, Aziraphale sat in his favorite window seat with a book on his lap. He’d no idea what it was; he’d tugged it from the shelf at random. After ten minutes gazing out at the street, he hadn’t made it past the flyleaf. It was just as well, really, for he would have been unable to read the words on any page: Crowley’s face in that crystalline moment--gentle, full of affection, fear dampened for hope--would not, could not, leave his mind.

How many times over the years had the demon looked at him thus? There was no way to know. How many times had the angel caught him doing so? A hundred, at least. Perhaps more. How many times had he allowed himself to gaze back? Far fewer. Far fewer, indeed.

But never before, as he had on this rainy April day, had he come so close to expressing what had hung for so long in the place he liked to think of as his heart.

I love you. Is that what he would have said? I adore you, even when you irritate me, darling Crowley. Perhaps especially then.

He’d let it slip by, hadn’t he, like a lost ship in the night, and who knew if such a chance--such a shot of sudden if incomplete bravery--might ever sail by his way again?

What if you spent millenia staring into the eyes of The One and never said anything, never reached for him, never acknowledged that he had become, as they said, the very sun in your sky?

“Oh dear,” Aziraphale sighed, tipping his forehead against the foggy glass. “Oh my dear. If, indeed.”

#aziraphale/crowley #otp: ineffable #mutual pining

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hillnerd · 5 years

Note

I kinda want you to write a story that would deal with Ron is virgin but Hermione isn't. I just feel like I read a lot of Hermione dealing with Ron sleeping with Lavender (or another girl) but hardly the opposite so I just think it would be interesting. Btw I love your newest story your working on!

Thanks so much! Sorry for the long time coming on this. (Not sure which story you mean, but I think you! I’m assuming Won Won?)

PG-13- alludes to sexual acts, but doesn’t actually show or describe anything in any detail.

Ron and Hermione had always been known as a passionate pair of people. He was the hot-headed ginger who would leap into altercations every year. She was the stubborn firebrand who would debate anyone at any given time. When they were together, their verbal spars were well known throughout the school, and now that they were together their passions raged on.

When Hermione had kissed him in the middle of the Hogwarts Battle, it hadn’t been anything chaste or tepid- it had been fiery, ardent, passionate and mindblowing. He’d swept her up in his arms and it had seared through him, having Hermione finally kiss him as he’d always wanted her to.

After the battle and the war, it took a bit for them to get that fire back. Ron found himself haunted by phantom death eaters and visions of his loved ones dying, making him so cautious he seemed like a worried mother hen much of the time. Hermione was uncharacteristically withdrawn, finding it hard to even get out of bed much of the time as nightmares and flashbacks plagued her.

They were able to find their way back to their fire, though, together. Every time they were alone and able to kiss, reverent passion would begin to work its way back into their souls, and soon they found the physical part of their relationship begin to escalate in intensity. Being alone in Australia led to some nights where they very nearly went all the way- but with the stress of everything, they hadn’t quite managed to get there.

Once back in England, Ron moved in the Grimmauld place with Harry. Hermione had been spending much of her time with her parents, trying to rebuild their relationship. He couldn’t blame her, but he also missed her a lot. It made their moments together even more important.

One particularly heated evening at Grimmauld place, when snogging had turned to much more, Hermione rubbed into him in ways that made his whole body rigid with anticipation, and they were very nearly naked. She was so beautiful, and Ron couldn’t believe she was allowing him to see touch and taste so much of her. Things continued to escalate and before he knew it they were at the precipice of having sex.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” said Ron, as he was close to entering her.

“We did all the ‘necessary prep-work,’” she said, giving him a naughty smile that made his mind zoom to just what all they did to make her quite satisfied. The way her body had quivered had almost been his undoing. “Just go easy and it won’t hurt.”

“But first times… They always say it hurts a girl- a woman- the first time she-” Ron cut himself off, somehow unable to say anything more, as he was suddenly embarrassed.

“Well it… It won’t be my first time,” Hermione said, biting her lip and looking away. Ron stilled. What had been so special, tender and beautiful now felt uncertain and brittle. Ron rolled off of her to take in the information.

He turned away from her and sat on the edge of the bed, looking at his knees. He had thought they were both doing this for the first time.

“Ron?”

“Yeah… Yeah… Give me a moment…” He said trying not to sound sharp or feel hurt.

Hermione slid beside him, still looking so beautiful, and put a soothing hand on his arm.

“Please say something.”

“I just… I dunno what to say…”

“It was only one time, and it didn’t mean anything, Ron. It really didn’t.”

Ron let out a sigh and covered his face with his hands a moment. He felt so hollow inside right now, and oddly embarrassed.

“Did you and Lavender not–?”

“No.” He hadn’t really been saving himself for Hermione, as romantic as the notion was to him. Did he have a right to feel hurt? Given the chance, would he have had sex with someone else? If Lavender had offered, would he have been able to resist?

He just hadn’t had sex. He hadn’t expected Hermione to ‘save herself’ for him, exactly, but he’d sure not wanted to think about anyone else getting to touch her and love her like he wanted to. He knew he should be incensed or jealous, or maybe even hurt- but oddly enough he wasn’t. He was just shocked more than anything. And embarrassed that he was a wilting virgin and she was finding out this way.

He heard a sniffle beside him, and turned to see big tears working their way down Hermione’s face. She got up from the bed and started to gather her clothes to her, looking so vulnerable it made his heart clench.

“What are you doing?” he quietly asked, stilling her hand as she reached across him to pull her shirt from his nightstand.

“I j-just assumed you’d, you’d not want me to stay… You can’t even look at me!” she said, rubbing at her eyes and scrambling to put her bra on.

“I can’t stop looking at you, Hermione. Kindof always been an issue for me,” he said with a small lopsided smile.

“But… But I’m. You thought I was–”

“It doesn’t matter,” Ron said cutting her off, and bringing her to stand in front of him. “You love me, right?”

“Of course I do!” she let out.

“Then what does it matter? I love you back, and in the scheme of things… It’s really not that important. I mean, we nearly died about a hundred times in the last year. This is just… not really important. I’m not thrilled or anything, and I feel like a right tosser, but… I can’t change the past, and I don’t want to pull another Lavender situation to even the playing field… I just want you.”

“I want you too! So much,” she said, hands still holding her clothes in front of her. “Are you sure you’re okay with this though? I mean-”

“Just cause it doesn’t matter, doesn’t mean I want to talk about it.”

Hermione nodded, though she looked pained at not being able to talk something to death. Her brows where drawn together and she looked so uncertain.

“How about,” Ron said, standing from the bed. “You and I get dressed and we finish off that tin of biscuits I have downstairs. Who knows. Maybe we’ll end up back in bed after?”

It took some convincing, but she finally acquiesced and let him ply her with some sweets, and sweet talk to boot. She was looking so deflated and unsure of herself it made him feel a sod for even having reacted at all. At one point, he would have been so hurt and vindictive about it. He would have really made it into an issue, but really, there was no point in doing that. It’d do nothing but hurt them both, and he’d well learned his lesson from sixth year and the war. He’d let jealousy drive a wedge between him and Hermione before, and he’d be damned if he’d let it happen again. There was no point in dallying about with hurt feelings and petty jealousies. They’d survived so much, and he wasn’t going to throw all of what they had built away. She was beautiful, smart, kind - and she wanted him of all the blokes in the world. Loved him.

Later that night he was no longer a virgin anymore, and he and Hermione continued to learn each other’s bodies and wants and needs in ways no one else could ever know. They had the rest of their lives to make a million memories, and he wasn’t going to waste a moment of it.

To me, after EVERYTHING they’ve gone through- I honestly think Ron would handle this fairly maturely. He’s done with all that bullsh!t from before, and even during, the war. He’s gained so much heartache and perspective at this point that this is just so small potatoes. (Frankly, I think it should ALWAYS be considered nothing important because the concept of virginity being important and romanticized I find problematic, but that’s a long-ass speech for another day.) And as logical and confident as Hermione is, I think would be insecure about it at first as she’s not confident when it comes to feeling wanted, loved, and admired romantically- and she would definitely be self-judgmental about it. But anyways- there ya go, anon! Not some giant angsty story- but rather just an awkward moment between them that they get over relatively quickly- because life is too short.

#romione #what if #alternate universe #ficlet #hillnerd writes #hillnerd writing #Anonymous

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mikawa-province · 5 years

Text

The Nile

Title: The Nile Fandom: Samurai Love Ballad: Party/Tenka Touitsu Koi no Ran: Love Ballad Pairing: Tokugawa Ieyasu x MC Rating: PG-13 Word Count (MS Word): 4,545

現状否定　（げんじょうひてい） [genjouhitei] (n) refusal to accept the present situation; denial of the existing situation

Happy Birthday, Tokugawa Ieyasu!

This was not how he envisioned his evening to be.

All Matsudaira Motoyasu wanted was a nice dinner and a bath before he retired to his bedroom, in preparation for a hectic morning ahead, which would consist of heading to the airport to make it in time for his morning flight. Business trips were the bane of existence, especially when it involved flying out of his home country to meet with clients.

Frankly, while he loved his day job, this was one aspect that he thought they should do away with, as he has never been the type to mingle and be nice. Within his workplace, he was known as the sarcastic one who had to be told to stop cursing out, lest he offended the people around him with his foul mouth.

… Not like he cared, really. His workplace could tell him to tone down his cursing all they like, it's not like he would cave in. Rather, his current career choice was something he was doing to tide him over until his dream job became stable enough to be a career.

And just like every dream job, he was still not at that level where he could abandon his day job for the one he had been dreaming of ever since he was old enough to understand what he wanted to do in life.

“Huh, never realize you'd be the type to cohabit with a woman, Motoyasu. Or is she your wife, as the rumors say?” came the familiar drawl that made him want to cringe openly.

Was there any law protecting citizens from getting sued if he slammed the door and claimed that any injury that resulted from said action was simply an ‘accident’? His unwanted guest’s fingers were on the door frame, the most perfect spot for what he was planning, and he was so very tempted to close the door with as much force as he could muster. That should be enough to get his point across.

Then again, no matter how much he tried, Oda Saburou never bothered listening to him.

That, and the man was such a huge gossip, nothing escaped his notice, his hearing, and his network.

As expected of a politician, Motoyasu thought to himself darkly before smiling at his childhood acquaintance.

“She’s neither. The woman is my housekeeper.” while he did not want Oda to know what she really was to him, he figured that telling the partial truth would be enough to satisfy the other man’s curiosity.

Oda, unfortunately, did not thinking that was all there was to the story and pressed on, the notorious busybody that he was. “Really? Just a housekeeper? Yet she lives with you?” [1]

He felt his eyes glare at the direction of the shrewd legislator giving him a sly look. “The arrangement I have with her is none of your business.”

Motoyasu wished that this scenario had never happened.

It was one thing for Oda to confront him about this… unusual setup without her within earshot. Conversations like these were done at expensive restaurants, specifically private rooms that were confirmed not to have been bugged nor tampered with.

Now, with her standing by the doorway beside him… this was the worst scenario he could ever think of. Not only because it did not make sense that member of the National Diet was visiting him on a whim, but Oda was being too persistent with his line of questioning and seemed way too interested and invested with his personal life.

The look on her face said it all: confused, incredulous, and most of all… shock.

Representative Oda Saburou of Aichi Prefecture’s First District [2] was at the front door and acted with so much arrogance, it seemed as if he owned the place.

The blond man resisted every urge to roll his eyes at the sight of the most irritating man in existence. “... Can you leave? I have an early flight to catch tomorrow—” before he could tell the man to fuck off and get lost, Oda raised a hand, as if to greet her and winked!

To his own surprise and anger, she blushed.

Blushed.

Fucking hell.

“Hey you, why don’t you work for me instead? No doubt Motoyasu’s pay rate is shit, and you probably don’t even have your own room.” Oda said, referring to his apartment setup that was definitely not up to a politician’s standards. “Can you really stand to live in a place like this? I’m sure I have more to offer than he does, no offense.” the last part sounded like he had randomly thrown that in to soften the blow, but Motoyasu knew better.

Oda was a demon in his own right, and was subtly trying to provoke him, in an attempt to test his patience.

… Maybe this was the sign he was waiting for.

Oda would still be able to live normally, even after losing a few fingers, right?

Then again, he didn’t need fingers if all he did was use his personal seal [3] to stamp everything in approval.

Just before he could take a single step towards the entryway to slam the door shut, she finally found her voice.

“I-If I may, Representative Oda…” she began hesitantly, wringing her hands before looking directly at the politician. “I would like to respectfully decline your offer. I am happy with what I am doing right now, and Motoyasu has been nothing but kind to me ever since I started working for him.”

Did she just… call him by his first name…?!

He shouldn’t be that surprised, really.

Given that his western upbringing had made him immune to getting surprised when people called him by his given name [4], her calling him by his name other than ‘Matsudaira-san’ for the past few months since she moved in… something akin to ‘fluttering’ made its way to his heart, which horrified and puzzled him at the same time.

Was he really that desperate to hear his name from her lips?

He was more deluded than he thought he would be.

The office teasing was getting to him so bad, he was starting to overthink of matters that he should not even be thinking about.

Nishina Sanae was his housekeeper (not officially, but she referred to herself as such), and he was her employer and boss (according to her, anyway); such a setup shouldn’t bring such crazy ideas to his mind.

Yet… it did.

If they were living overseas, he would have been sued for harassment if he dared to make a move… however, in his home country, their current setup was one of those scenarios that people who wrote fiction for a living made millions of yen from. It was absurd, really, how the master of the house would somehow fall for his housekeeper, courtesy of either clumsy writing or a rather believable storyline that got the masses hooked.

Even so, he never did see her as his housekeeper. She did more than just housesit for him whenever he was away at his day job, or when he did his gig late in the evenings that would last until the early morning. Too exhausted to do his chores, which was brought about by his late-night job, she did it all to help around the house in order to, according to her, pay her share of the rent in lieu of monetary payment. While it sounded so sleazy that she was doing almost all the household work, as he had been used to the notion that chores were done on a give and take basis between two individuals living together, she informed him that she was more than happy to do the chores as it distracted her from falling into a mess.

Until now, she was still unable to secure another job to replace the one that had let her go, and was desperately searching for anything that would allow her to earn the exact same rate that her old job gave her.

“After all, I need to have my own place as soon as possible. It’s gonna be awkward if I’m here and you bring a lady over. I’ll be in the way and she might get the wrong idea.”

He resisted rolling his eyes upon hearing her say that. Dating was far from his mind, especially since he was focusing on his side gig, and, at the same time, trying to keep his head afloat with his day job. ‘Exhausting’ was one way to put it, but there was also the matter of his family to keep in mind.

If only his family was normal, they probably would not bat an eyelash over his personal choices, but they weren’t… exactly what the population would call ‘normal’.

Far from it.

“Really?” Oda did not look convinced. “You find him ‘kind’ when he’s forcing you to make him a lunch box everyday for the past few months?”

This fucking guy was seriously going to get stabbed one of these days. If the yakuza wouldn’t do it, he would definitely be first in line to go through with it.

How long would he be in jail if he ‘accidentally’ stabbed this guy?

… And how the hell did he know about the bentou boxes? Did Oda seriously have spies at his workplace?

He made a mental note to be careful from now on.

“No way, it’s not like that!” she said. “I don’t mind making lunches for him!”

How awkward that what he ate for lunch was becoming a point of intrigue in his company. He had hoped that when he started bringing her home-cooked meals, his co-workers would not notice it; it had been barely two minutes since he began eating when one of them did and straight-up asked him if he already knocked up a woman and married her.

At that time, he found the notion ridiculous. He had no time to ‘knock up’ a woman, with the way his schedule worked, and how exhausted he was day after day.

“Whatever you say, man, but if you’re that oblivious with the way your wife puts a lot of effort in that bentou of yours, I won’t be surprised if she finds someone else who would appreciate her more than you ever will and divorce you.”

… Maybe he really was more exhausted than he thought. His brain was giving him stupid ideas from all that romantic-related nonsense his co-workers were telling him.

Death from overwork was a thing [5], and he had to be careful not to tire himself out too much.

But before all of that, first thing’s first: Oda had to go, either as a corpse, or as a living human being.

“Interesting.” the politician was smirking from ear to ear now. “A home-cooked meal, huh… haven’t had one in a long time.”

Just before the blond man could tell him to simply go home and have his own meal prepared by his personal chef, she just had to do the most annoying thing possible.

“If you’d like, I can cook for you sometime.” she volunteered readily.

Motoyasu did not know why, but he was suddenly seeing red, and the fact that he was feeling rather murderous when Oda’s taunts and teasing did not used to affect him was very alarming. Either way, by the looks of it, it was either he ended up ‘accidentally’ stabbing the man or he shoved the guy out of his apartment, all the while acting as cordial as possible while doing said shoving.

As he still had dreams to fulfill, one of which being his side job becoming a full-time job, he opted for the latter, and made a move to close the door. While doing so, he had accidentally hit her hand as he swung his own to grab the door frame.

“Sorry.” he muttered, wondering why his cheeks felt hot all of a sudden at the contact.

“N-no worries…”

Oda Saburou rolled his eyes upon seeing the red-faced woman and shook his head. “Yeah right, you’re totally not married.” he remarked sarcastically.

“I already told you--”

“Whatever you say, I’m leaving.” before he removed his hand on the frame, he winked at the lone female among them. “I’ll take you up on that offer sometime. See you around.”

Motoyasu slammed the door as hard as he possibly could, rattling the shoe cabinets by the door. Upon seeing her wince from the noise, he sighed heavily before heading off to his room.

What a stressful day it was, having to deal with Oda, and now, the possibility of him visiting more often all because his roommate (was that how he should start referring to her?) had volunteered to cook.

Though… there was also that possibility that Oda would invite her over to his place and…

He thought he had suppressed every emotion related to wanting to kill that man decades ago; why was it making a comeback all of a sudden?

“Matsudaira-san, I’m sorry…”

He was so caught up in his rage that he had forgotten that she was still there, trailing behind him.

“... You did nothing wrong.” he said as calmly as he possibly could, despite the rage in his blood. “Go to sleep. And just so you know, I don’t need breakfast tomorrow.”

“You’re clearly angry at me.” she stubbornly pressed on, somehow misinterpreting his request for no breakfast. “Won’t you tell me what I did to offend you?”

As much as he wanted to not deal with this stupidity caused by his inability to control his emotions, she was forcing him to face the problem head on, which was something that he has been avoiding for the past few weeks.

Damn it all.

Damn Oda for taunting him.

Damn her for being so stubborn.

Damn her for being so damn nice that she was willing to cook for just about anyone who asks.

And lastly…

Damn all of his co-workers for making the things that he never thought deeply about turn into a sick fantasy that had been haunting him for months.

He was really going to regret what he would be saying next, but he had no choice. She had to back down before he did something idiotic. “... You did nothing wrong. Ask me again and you'll regret it, I guarantee you.” he threatened.

He should have known by now that she would never be one of those women who listened to him. Rather, she got defiant at times that he wondered how she could get away with that kind of attitude at her workplace… and how he was amazingly able to tolerate all of it.

It was either that, or she only became impertinent while in his presence.

He had half a mind to discipline her, but backed down immediately, knowing that she really was more of a roommate than a housekeeper, and he had no authority over her.

Still… maybe spanking her wouldn't be such a bad idea.

He stopped himself before his mind wandered off to place that shouldn't even be worth considering, yet his mind did, and conjured images it didn’t.

Ugh, this was such a pain in so many different ways, and he was feeling the effects.

“Tell me.”

That fucking did it.

He turned around and glared at her.

“... Don't say I didn't warn you.”

She didn't realize she had followed him to his bedroom until he turned around and gave her a look that told her she was in big trouble.

Why couldn't she had just kept her mouth shut?!

Time and again, her mouth was the very cause of the various problems that ended with her always getting scolded or, worse, fired from her job for ‘insubordination’. While she would rather have a roof over her head for an indefinite period of time until she could pay the deposit for her own apartment, it was still well within her roommate's right to tell her to pack up and leave.

There was always the option of going back home, but she would rather not.

Tokyo was much more fun than her hometown, which was already so overcrowded with tourists.

That, and her roommate was not at all unpleasant to look at.

Not at all.

… Unless he was glaring at her and he was looking like he wanted to pummel her.

She never knew what ‘paralyzing fear’ was until this very moment, when he slammed a hand to the side of her face as she shrieked from the loud noise and found her back pressing against the bedroom door, feeling herself shrink from him looming presence.

Was she seriously that distracted moments ago that she actually closed the door behind her, forgetting that she was not going to clean his room, and was not at all supposed to be in her ‘housekeeper mode’?

Hell, did she just potentially entrap herself in his room?!

A thousand profanities ran through her mind as she felt her heart race in panic.

He was seriously going to punish her.

‘Why did you even do that?!’ her mind screamed at her. ‘Are you seriously asking to be thrown out in the streets? And on winter even!’

She really, really needed to keep her mouth shut from now on.

That, and having the common sense to know what to say and what not to say during certain situations.

Before she could open her mouth to beg for forgiveness, all of a sudden, her peaceful world violently spun away from its orbit.

Oh. My.

The profanities that her mind was shouting nonstop had ceased, and was replaced with… dead silence.

How was she supposed to reach over the fact that her boss, no, her “roommate” was… well… to put it simply, he was pressing his mouth against hers while he leaned closer to her…? While she have had encounters like these, this was one of the only times wherein she did not recoil at the physical closeness of both their lips and their bodies.

It also did not help that he was not at all unattractive. No doubt, there were probably women who have tried to pick him up over at Roppongi in the hopes of getting noticed, but failed to do so. His angelic-like features belied the sarcasm that he kept in check, fooling nearly everyone around him. She, too, had also been a victim, both with lacking the oversight to notice the little devil behind the charming smile, as well as his rather colorful vocabulary.

Underneath it all, however, was an awkward man who had a hard time saying his true feelings. Despite her situation, not once did he force her to clean his apartment in lieu of monetary compensation.

… Was that why she was totally okay with him kissing her…?

She was seriously losing her mind.

The last thing she wanted was to get into some kind of situation that would make everyone, including her, very awkward and uncomfortable.

Roommate, boss… whatever the hell their relationship status is right now, she would rather not get involved with someone like him.

… Well, maybe after a few minutes, she would have the courage to tell him to stop.

This man was seriously too talented with his mouth. It had been a struggle not to moan as he coaxed her with his lips to open up, but as soon as a throaty moan escaped her lips, she felt her face flame in embarrassment.

He pulled away for a bit to take in some air, and she could have sworn she heard him mutter, “Too damn cute…” before kissing her once more. This time around, his hands were slowly making its way down her torso before wrapping his arms around her waist to steady her.

It was now or never.

She found herself wrapping her arms around his neck and standing on the tip of her toes, her tongue slipping within his parted lips.

There was no turning back.

He was such a deluded good-for-nothing maniac.

He was seriously going to get sued for taking advantage of his housekeeper, roommate… whatever the hell their relationship is at this point in time. Not to mention, if she does sue him, he could say goodbye to everything he had worked hard for in the past year, all because of his uncontrollable urges. Embarrassingly, something snapped in him, and… well… she had somehow thought it was a good idea to close the door behind her when she followed him to his room.

Then again, who was he to talk? At first, he thought it would be a good idea to threaten her, jokingly, and look at where it led him.

They were close to making out at this point, with her fingers unbuttoning the dress shirt he wore for work.

Fuck that, he would never see his plain old boring work outfit the same way ever again.

No doubt, his mind would associate his work shirt with the current scenario and…

God help him if he would be unable to concentrate with his day job after this—

Thinking about his day job had snapped him out of his lust-filled thoughts.

This has got to stop, he thought to himself.

Abruptly, he placed his hands on each of her shoulder and slowly pulled away from her.

“S-sorry…” why was he such a wimp, stuttering while apologizing to the person who had been supporting him for the past few months, only for him to suddenly assault her? He was such an awful person, he wouldn’t be surprised if she ran away after everything that had happened.

Hell, even he could not process everything that had happened just now.

“I mean… my apologies, I did not mean… for this to… happen.” he ended lamely, knowing that he had no reason at all for doing what he did, other than him acting like a hormonal teenager.

Before she could say anything, he turned the handle of the door to open it. “... See you around, I guess.”

All of a sudden, he was so looking forward to flying out of the country for a couple of days.

He needed to stay far, far away from her.

The sooner, the better.

He was such a mess, and so was his mind.

Was he… telling her to leave his room, or his household in general?

As if on auto-pilot, she found herself bowing her head, muttering ‘good night’, and leaving his bedroom. How she had managed to do it so calmly, she would never understand.

It was difficult to think straight immediately after getting kissed as if she mattered, and that he could not get enough of her. Every gesture made her knees unstable that it had really been a good idea for her to hold on to him.

Which was why it had hurt when he told her that he did not mean for it to “happen”.

Just what exactly did he mean by that?

Was he regretting making out with someone like her, a nearly-penniless girl who was both his roommate and his housekeeper…?

She wish he didn’t; she didn’t regret any of it.

… Besides, it had been somewhat a wish come true, at least, for her.

Hell, maybe it was time for her to openly admit the fact that she was thoroughly attracted to the man who had been kind enough to take her in when her whole world came crashing down one day. He wasn’t perfect by any means, but he was not awful as he made himself out to be, nor she found him unpleasant to deal with.

That, and… well… there was also that one incident that had cemented the whole foundation of her infatuation towards him.

At that point, she was still in denial with regards to her feelings towards him, as she knew that the odds between them actually upgrading their relationship status was rather low. He never really interacted much with her, and vice-versa, as it had been all professional and rarely casual.

… Until that incident.

She had been minding her own business that Saturday morning when something else better than coffee woke the ever living daylights out of her for two days straight: the sight of her naked boss.

At that times, she was busy cleaning the wash basin of his second bathroom when, at the exact same time he exited the bathroom, she happened to catch a glimpse of him from the mirror placed above the very basin she was cleaning.

If there was one thing that she discovered that day, it would be that overworking one’s self was always a bad idea, as it led to poor decisions and judgments, and that the man she was living with was… well…

If she had to be honest, what she saw on the mirror was definitely… impressive.

The very memory of that impressive sight had been forever burned both in her retinas and in her mind.

That had been the very first time she had found out that Matsudaira Motoyasu was a workaholic, as he had been going home very late that week, only for him to crash and burn that Saturday morning. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, she could never decide, but for him to actually admit that he could not remember going into the shower that morning and exiting it as naked as the day he was born and passing out after he put his underclothes on, it was a conundrum, really.

On one hand, he did not know that she had caught a glimpse of him.

On the other hand, that incident had forced her to confront her feelings for him all of a sudden, which had kept her up all night for several nights.

After all, how was it even possible for her to see her ‘boss’ in such an… intimate way? The man had been nothing but forgiving in every sense, even if, at times, she wanted to hit him for his callous remarks about everything.

His sharp tongue aside, it was getting incredibly difficult for her to continue to ignore her growing feelings.

While she had been very good with running away from her problems, now was not the time to be doing such, especially since her current situation afforded her with little to no options of doing so.

The best thing she could do, for now at least, was to act as if nothing happened, and that she was totally not shaken to the core with what had happened.

Yep, that was the best thing she could do with her current predicament.

With him going overseas, that would definitely make it easier for both of them. Some separation time was needed, and she would be glad to have a few days all to herself, as the last thing she wanted was to make a fool out of herself in front of him by becoming too flustered over their interactions.

Hell, she had some growing up to do.

It was just a kiss.

People kissed other people all the time… right?

She grimaced at herself, knowing that it was always a struggle to convince herself to feel the opposite of her true emotions.

The worst.

Notes:

[1] “Really? Just a housekeeper? Yet she lives with you?” - If there’s one thing that’s odd with this phrase, it’s that it’s extremely rare for Japan households to have a live-in helper. If they do live in the same household, it means that the family that employs them are very rich and can provide lodging and such.

[2] Aichi Prefecture’s First District - good old Wikipedia helped me out on this one. First District includes Naka Ward, which happens to be the area where Oda Nobunaga was born. He was born in Nagoya Castle, by the way.

[3] Then again, he didn’t need fingers if all he did was use his personal seal to stamp everything in approval. - while some transactions in Japan can be completed with simply a signature, some traditional banks require you to use a stamp. Personal seals (私印) are used to complete transactions, and you do need to have one in case they don’t accept signatures.

[4] Given that his western upbringing had made him immune to getting surprised when people called him by his given name - Calling people by their first name implies closeness that can range from ‘we’ve known each other all our lives’ to ‘s/he is my lover’. Most of the time, that rule applies. There are exceptions to this, as always.

[5] Death from overwork was a thing - it’s called karoushi (過労死), and it’s very real.

Bonus: as for the title, remember, denial is just a river in Egypt. ;)

Oh wow I actually made it in time for Ieyasu’s birthday this year lmfao Happy Birthday to the Tanuki of Mikawa!

Apologies if my writing was all over the place. I’ve rushed it a bit to make it in time but I hope it was tolerable at least.

Lastly, this is the first of many planned one-shot/s involving modern AU and Tokugawa Ieyasu/Matsudaira Motoyasu x MC. Depending on the reception of this fic, I may or may not expound further.

Once again, thank you for reading!

#slbp fanfic #slbp fanfiction #slbp ieyasu #slbp motoyasu #tokugawa ieyasu x mc #koiran #koiran lb #現代シリーズ

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